Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tony groaned and flipped over, wiggling until he was on the cool side of his bed. He had been feeling off all day, and he couldn't put a better word to it than that. It wasn't one of his shaman gifts — he'd mastered them all the best he could within a few months of him onlining as a shaman. He hadn't had trouble with any of them in months, now, and even when he did, they didn't cause this kind of mental itch.

With a huff, Tony looked at his bedside alarm clock. 0243 in the morning. If it wasn't so late, he'd be tempted to play his piano for a little bit. He often found playing soothing, but Tony always tried to keep his playing restricted to respectable daylight hours. For a moment, Tony eyed his phone where it sat charging.

Part of him was tempted to call Blair — and with the time difference it would be before midnight for the Prime — but Tony had no idea what he would tell him. "Hello, Blair, my mind itches. Care to fly out to DC and give me the shaman equivalent of cortisone cream?" Tony snorted. That would go over well.

Of course, Blair was the kind of person who never made you feel like you were imposing — he'd probably be glad to hear from Tony, and more than willing to listen to him explain what was bothering him. But Tony was too used to handling things himself. Even if Blair wouldn't see him as a bother, Tony would feel like one.

Suddenly, Tony felt a pressure building in his mind. Instead of the previous itching, now he felt like he had taken a bad turn into turbulence on a COD flight and he was desperately trying to get his eardrums to pop, except a hundred times worse. Agonized, Tony curled into a ball, pressing his hands against his temples desperately.

Without warning, the pressure popped, and Tony felt a moment of overwhelming emotional noise, before everything went dark.

Tony woke briefly, as he felt his body moving. "Wha-?" he mumbled. He had a dim memory of being in pain, but everything was fuzzy and muted now.

"Don't worry, sir, we're taking you to the Center," an unfamiliar voice said. It took Tony a moment to realize they were talking to him.

"My phone," he said muzzily. If they were taking him somewhere, he needed to call Gibbs and let him know.

"Don't worry; you won't need it, sir," the stranger soothed him. "We'll take care of everything."

They were saying the right words, but it bothered Tony. How would they know what to say to Gibbs? Tony's badge was by the door, but… "My gun…" It was in the safe, but on second thought, Tony wasn't sure he wanted these people to have his gun. He still wasn't sure who they were.

"You don't have to worry about anyone with a gun anymore," the person said, making Tony wonder why they thought someone else was there. Was someone else there? "We're here to take care of you," they said.

Tony wanted to protest, to explain, to somehow reach Gibbs, but the voice spoke again. "He needs a higher dose — he's still in distress." Before Tony could protest that he wasn't in distress, — but would be if they didn't let him call Gibbs — a warm, drugged feeling swamped him, and he faded into darkness again.

The next time Tony woke, the first thing he noticed was the heavy, drugged feeling in his veins. The room around him looked vaguely medical, as the IV running into his arm could attest, but it didn't quite click as a standard hospital room. Tony couldn't put his finger on what exactly was different, but something was sending his senses — his standard police ones, not his shaman ones — into overdrive.

His brain fog eventually cleared a little, and the night before began to come back to him in bits and pieces. A little judicious wiggling told him that he wasn't wearing anything beneath the hospital gown, and he didn't see his phone or wallet on the bedside table. Finally it registered that the bed was a normal one, not a hospital one, and Tony realized that it had been one of the clues niggling at him that didn't fit.

Tony didn't think he'd been kidnapped exactly — kidnappers usually had a lot less care for the comfort of their victims, and the sheets and hospital gown were high thread count. He couldn't figure out why else someone would have taken him from his apartment and drugged him, however, though Tony was fairly certain that he could have put the clues together a little better if the drugs weren't slowing him down.

In the middle of this assessment, the door to his room opened, and an unfamiliar man entered. "Oh good, you're awake," he said. Tony didn't recognize his voice, but he caught just a flash of aura from him — the drugs were suppressing his shamanistic talents, it seemed. It was enough to mark the man as a guide, at least.

"Is this the S&G Center?" Tony asked, hating how sluggishly his brain was putting the pieces together.

"Of course," the guide said cheerfully. "You were in quite a state, you know. But we've gotten you settled down nicely."

"Did you bring my phone?" Tony asked. He needed to call Gibbs — he remembered that much.

"I'm afraid the emergency team didn't bring you in with anything," the guide said with a frown. "Were you mugged?"

"No! I was in my own damn bed!" Tony growled. "Your team kidnapped me out of my apartment! You mean they didn't bring my wallet or anything?"

The guide looked startled, and glanced at the clipboard in his arms that Tony was just now noticing. Jesus, these drugs were screwing with his head! "This is highly irregular," the guide mumbled.

"Listen, I need to make a phone call. If your idiot kidnapping team didn't bring my phone, then I'll need to borrow one," Tony said with as much patience as he could muster right now.

"I'm not sure that would be wise," the guide hedged.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off a headache — or the desire to strangle someone. A glint caught the light and he realized he was still wearing his Shaman ID bracelet. "Listen, I'm still wearing my Center ID bracelet," he said, holding it up as proof. "That means you already know who I am, right?"

"Yes, I wanted to ask you about that," the guide said. "Where did you get that ID bracelet from? It doesn't make any sense; our team identified you as just coming online tonight. Who did you take that from?"

"Oh Jesus," Tony flomped back against the pillows. "If you saw my ID, then you were able to pull up my file, and see exactly why I have this specific bracelet," he growled. "And if you saw my file, then you'd understand what was happening. Look, I need to make a phone call — two, it seems like." He needed Gibbs, but if this idiot was any indication, Tony might also need Blair on his side.

"I'll need to clear that with the Center Directors," the guide mumbled. "This is highly irregular."

"Your nose will be highly irregular if you don't give me a damn phone!" Tony burst out. The itching feeling was starting to come back, despite the drugs still being pumped into his IV, and he was not in the mood to deal with this idiot any longer.

Annoyingly, the guide just pressed a large red button by the door and fled. A moment later, a new man — one that looked so stereotypically sentinel that Tony didn't even need the wisps of aura to ID him — stepped into the room. From the way he stood, it was obvious that he was a security guard. He eyed Tony speculatively, then strode forward. The guide reappeared behind him, and followed his progress.

"Look, I'm not actually going to punch him," Tony said soothingly. "I just want to know why the Center kidnapped me, and why they won't let me make a simple phone call to get some answers." The sentinel didn't answer, and neither did the guide. Once they reached his bedside, the guide darted out from behind the sentinel and injected something into Tony's IV line.

A wave of warmth hit him, followed instantly by the heavy sensation of high sedation. "— the hell?" Tony mumbled. As the sentinel and guide backed away, he tried one last time, fighting back against the drowsiness that threatened to overtake him.

"Even prisoners 're supposed to get a phone call, you know! And if you know… a single thing about me in your f— file, you should know why you shoulda made this call f— fer me."

Then Tony was out like a light.

When Tony woke, he quickly discovered that he had been restrained, with thick bands around his wrists and ankles like the kind they used on mental patients in movies. Tony looked up and saw two sentinels standing guard on either side of the door. He sighed.

"Is all this really necessary?" Tony asked patiently, tugging idly with his right wrist.

"You threatened a guide," said the closer sentinel. He was burly, square-jawed, and held himself arrogantly. His short, dark brown hair was gelled back, and his attitude conveyed to Tony exactly how heinous that accusation was. Tony mentally named him 'Muscles.'

Tony toyed with responding that he was a guide too — he was fairly certain he'd finally come online last night, but Muscles gave him the distinct impression that that answer wouldn't do him any good. Instead he settled for replying, "That was a bad joke, which I told the other guard. And in my defense, being kidnapped by an S&G team from my own bed in the middle of the night and drugged all to hell made me a little snappy."

The second guard looked disturbed by that. He was lanky, with a blonde crew cut, and a military bearing. Tony figured there was a fifty-fifty chance he was Navy or Marines, instead of one of the other branches, and decided to roll the dice. "Look, I'm a federal agent — NCIS. If my kidnappers had bothered to grab my cell phone or my wallet, like I asked them to last night, I could prove it to you."

"You're NCIS?" the blond guard asked.

"I am," Tony nodded. "You Navy, son?" he took a guess.

Blond clicked his heels together as he came to attention. "Petty Officer second class Brian Davis, sir."

"Nice to meet you, Sentinel Davis," Tony said with a smile. "I'm Very Special Agent Tony DiNozzo. You could call the Navy Yard and check my badge number if I had it. Oh, you can call security at NCIS. Mike works nights— is it still night?" he asked.

David glanced at his watch, then said, "It's just after ten hundred, Sir." Muscles growled at him, as though he had given Tony some kind of forbidden information.

"Oh crap," Tony paled. "Look, I was supposed to be at work at seven hundred. My boss, Agent Gibbs, is a Marine. He's going to kill me. I just wanted to call him last night to let him know I wouldn't be in. Now, I'll be lucky if he doesn't try to charge me with dereliction. I've got to call him."

Muscles scowled, but Davis looked torn. "How about… Sentinel Davis, do you have a phone? I mean, of course you have one, but is it on you?" Tony asked. Davis hesitantly nodded. "Listen, you don't even have to undo these restraints. You can even hold the phone yourself. I'll just dial — I'll put it on speaker and everything."

"I'm not sure…" Davis hesitated, glancing at his partner.

"Look, you're a sentinel, right?" Tony asked. "You can hear my heartbeat and vocal stressors, can't you? I need to call Gibbs; he needs to know where I am. That's all I'll do."

Davis stepped forward, and Muscles growled, "Davis!"

"Oh stuff it, Jake," Davis snapped back. "He's a guide. You can tell he's not lying." He pulled out his phone as he walked to the bed, and quickly unlocked it. Muscles — Jake — pulled out a radio and spoke into it in a low voice; Tony wasn't sure how much time he'd have before someone came and stopped Davis from helping him.

As Davis held it beside his hand, Tony awkwardly typed Gibbs's number — thankful he'd memorized it, just in case — and then pressed send, before quickly tapping the speaker button.

After just two rings, it was answered, and "Gibbs," came the familiar growl.

"Agent Gibbs, this is Sentinel Petty Officer Second Class Brian Davis with the DC Sentinel and Guide Center," Davis began. "I've got your agent here—"

"DiNozzo?" Gibbs cut him off.

That was his cue, and Tony quickly piped up. "Hey boss, they finally gave me my one phone call. I only have a minute, so before you yell at me, I apologize for not answering my phone, but when the S&G Center sent their lovely minions to kidnap me from my bed in the nothing I was wearing, they left it behind. Before you liberate me, please swing by my place and grab me something to wear, my phone, my gun, and creds. Maybe my laptop, if you think they'll keep me here longer than you want to wait for the month end reports."

Taking a fast breath, he raced on before Gibbs could interrupt, "Oh, and please tell Abby that I'm fine, and I'm sorry for worrying her, and ask her to hack in and delete all the messages from my phone where you and she and Kate threaten to kill me for not answering. I'm pretty sure coming Online and being kidnapped by the Center is one of the few acceptable reasons for being unreachable."

"I only got one call, and I don't know if I'll get another, so I'll need you to get a hold of Blair, too. I know my file says to contact him, but so far they haven't seemed to be paying attention to his instructions. I'm not sure why I'm being treated like a prisoner, but maybe you can get some answers from Marius and Jae if they don't already know what's going on. Thanks Boss! Love you! Bye!" Tony quickly tapped the button and ended the call, taking advantage of the rare opportunity to hang up on Gibbs, instead of the other way around.

"Thanks, Sentinel Davis" Tony said, projecting as much appreciation as he could with his smile. The drugs were dampening his shaman gifts, and — he assumed — his regular guide gifts, but he could still project his tone like a mundane could.

"You're welcome, Sir," Davis said, seeming startled by Tony's message — or perhaps whatever secret Sentinel things he had picked up in Gibbs's vocal tone or the background or whatever.

"Look, if he actually stops at my apartment first, you've got maybe thirty, forty minutes before Gibbs gets here," Tony warned him. "But he might send our partner, Kate, to do that and just race over here himself, in which case you've got about ten. Either way, you should swap out whoever's at your front desk for someone with a really strong backbone. Hell, you should really just have an escort waiting at the door, and clear the halls between here and there," Tony said mildly.

A familiar grizzly bear popped into the room and took a long, assessing, look at Tony. Tony gave Baloo a cheeky wave. With a soft growl, it started pacing.

Tony gestured at the bear as though that explained everything. "Like I said, you're about to have a Marine Gunny with a grizzly bear for a familiar storming through this place on a rampage. Clearing the halls? Not an unwise precaution."

Davis uttered a small oath and fled the room. Muscles just stared at the bear. "That's a sentinel's spirit animal," he complained.

"Let me guess, you're a Fibbie?" Tony taunted. "You've certainly got their habit of stating the obvious. And their lack of self-preservation instinct when it comes to the Boss."

"Your boss has a grizzly bear as a spirit animal?" the idiot sentinel repeated slowly.

Tony and Baloo exchanged an incredulous look. Tony was tempted to ask if the gel was there to hold in his brain from escaping, but he refrained with great strength of will. Instead, he turned to Baloo and said, "On second thought, Big Guy, it might be better if you took care of him first, saved Boss the trouble," Tony, waved his hand at Baloo in an 'after you' gesture. He'd taken to calling Baloo 'Big Guy' around anyone who wasn't Abby or Blair, to save Gibbs the coronary of embarrassment.

The grizzly huffed in amusement and then began advancing slowly on the sentinel. Muscles lasted until the bear was about six feet away before he turned and fled, slamming the door behind him.

Baloo sat back on his haunches and grumbled in a way that sounded just like Gibbs. Tony knew Baloo could have pursued the sentinel through the door, but clearly he felt it more important to stay at Tony's bedside. He could even hear the order Gibbs would have given Baloo to do just that.

The door opened again a few minutes later, and Tony sagged with relief when he saw his new visitor. Jae was average height, with beige skin, a wide face and floppy black hair. He was also fairly young for his position — not even thirty — and spoke with a light Australian accent. "Ah, Tony, you're awake finally," the newcomer said.

"Heya, Jae," Tony greeted the Alpha Prime Guide of DC, who also happened to be one of the few people who knew about his situation. The child of diplomats who had stayed in DC for college, and come online his Freshman year, Jae knew all the movers and shakers on the Hill, and had easily taken the reins of the DC Center a few years back. "I'd have been awake earlier if your people hadn't drugged me all to hell. Your nighttime medical staff leaves something to be desired."

"Oh, I already took care of your doctor," Jae assured him with a smirk. "I'll also be having words with the emergency response team, I assume, once I've got your side of things."

"Probably." Tony shrugged. "I take it, I've finally come online as a guide?"

"Yep, and it's about damn time, mate," Jae grinned at him. "I can't wait to hear this story. In the meantime, you've caused quite a stir, haven't you?"

"I didn't mean to," Tony said sheepishly. "But what do you expect when you go about kidnapping people and treating them like criminals?" he tugged gently on the restraints.

"Son of a bitch!" Jae seemed to just realize they were there. "He didn't mention these. I'm gonna kill him." He quickly released Tony's wrists, and Tony massaged them as Jae freed his feet.

"Sentinel Davis told me he let you call Gibbs," Jae nodded at Baloo with a grin. "I see he wasted no time in sending a minder for you."

"I think this time the minder is for you," Tony teased back. "Or at least your people. Given I'm not responsible for any of this."

"That's debatable," Jae teased back. "After all, you wouldn't be here if you hadn't come online, mate."

"I didn't come online here; I came online at home in my bed," Tony shot back.

Baloo growled and swiped at Tony's feet, and they both burst out laughing. It was very much the bear equivalent of a headslap, Tony was certain, and it did its job of breaking up their mock argument.

"So, how long do you think you'll be keeping me all drugged up here?" Tony asked conversationally, once their laughter trailed off.

Jae frowned, and crossed over to look at the label on his IV bag, then searched around — presumably for his files, Tony guessed. "The sedative should be all but gone now," he said.

"I was drugged pretty heavily at my apartment when I woke up," Tony explained as Jae found the clipboard attached to the foot of his bed. "I tried to ask them to get my phone, gun, and badge, or at least let me make a call, but I was struggling to communicate. Then they shot me up with something else that made me black out."

"When I woke up here the first time, I could barely see auras, and couldn't access any of my other shamanistic gifts. Then when I was refused a phone again, and got frustrated, your idiot guide shot me with the blackout juice again. Now auras are stronger, and I can see the Big Guy, obviously, but everything else is still pretty sluggish."

"I couldn't pick up an emotional tone from anyone, so far, even though I could see your guide last night was broadcasting fear on all channels at one point. And I can tell you're mad because I'm an investigator, but I'm getting a fat lot of nothing empathically right now," Tony concluded.

As he spoke, Jae had gotten angrier and angrier. Suddenly the door popped open again, and Jae's sentinel burst into the room. Marius was a little young to be an Alpha Prime, like Jae, but he had come online as a teenager, and had almost fifteen years as a sentinel. He was one of Tony's favorite people to spar with.

He had creamy dark skin, a small mustache and beard, and a shock of short dreadlocks on the top of his head. When he saw that there was no immediate physical threat, he quickly dropped out of his aggressive pose and crossed to Jae. Drawing his husband into his arms from behind, he rested his chin on Jae's shoulder and looked at the clipboard in his hands.

"I felt that all the way at the front desk, babe: what's wrong?" he murmured.

Jae, who had relaxed slightly at his touch, flared with anger again. "Tony just came online, and they've got him on such heavy dampeners that he can't even sense the most basic emotion bombs being projected at him!" he growled.

Marius's expression immediately hardened. "I thought the policy was not to give dampeners to a newly online guide unless we established that they couldn't shield on their own because of trauma or injury," he reached out and flipped to the first page on the clipboard. "You were asleep?" he checked with Tony.

"Woke up to them talking to me, already drugged to the hilt," Tony confirmed.

"Did anyone try to talk you through making a shield?" Jae asked. "I mean, we already had you making rudimentary ones to block out your shaman gifts when you needed to, so Blair and I assumed you'd be able to do it naturally."

"I might be able to, but right now I can't tell," Tony scowled. "No one said a word about shielding: just kept soothing me that I was fine. It felt like they were talking to a toddler who wanted a cookie every time I asked for my phone."

"Okay, we're definitely knocking some heads together," Marius declared gruffly. "What the hell were they thinking?"

"I don't know, but we're going to find out," Jae growled. "Tony, we'll be back. If Gibbs beats us here, let him know we're working on it, alright?"

"Sure," Tony agreed easily. It was hard to maintain strong emotions like anger while on the dampeners. "Did you put someone with a backbone on the front desk, and clear the halls like I suggested?"

Marius chuckled. "Your Navy boy's waiting at the front door to escort Gibbs here himself."

"Good, that'll save him from shredding some poor idiot," Tony grinned.

"In the meantime, Tony, I'll get one of our doctors in here to wean you off of this mess," Jae concluded, waving the clipboard angrily. "They'll be able to talk you through raising your shields, though it'll be harder to do it piecemeal as you come off the drugs."

"Of course it will be," Tony agreed. "Why should anything about me coming online be easy?"

Jae and Marius both snorted at that, and quickly left, leaving Tony alone with his thoughts and Baloo. "Not that I don't trust Jae, but if it looks like the new Doctor is another idiot, you have my permission to run him off," Tony said conversationally.

Baloo gave him a look and a huff that was easily translated, even without empathic gifts. 'What makes you think I need your permission?'

Tony laughed and leaned back against the pillows. Even Gibbs's spirit animal had to always get the last word in.

The doctor arrived barely two minutes later with a tray of medical goodies in hand, and Jae accompanied him, much to Tony's amusement. Though he couldn't be sure at the moment if Jae was there to protect the doctor from himself or from Baloo.

The doctor, who Tony recognized as a Sentinel from his faint aura, quickly removed his old IV bag and hung a new one, after showing Tony that it was just saline. "To help flush out the rest of this mess," he quickly explained. Then he injected two different medications into the line, one after the other.

When Tony made a questioning noise, the doctor held up the vials. "One to counteract the dampener, and one to counteract the sedative. Do you need a painkiller?"

Tony looked at him in confusion. "I'm not in any pain?"

"You're rubbing your chest," he nodded at Tony, who looked down and realized he was indeed rubbing against his sternum with his free hand.

"It doesn't hurt…" Tony said, confused. "I don't know why I'm doing that."

"That's your sentinel, mate," Jae quickly chimed in. Tony's gaze shot to him. "Lots of guides do that when they're fresh online and their senses are searching for their sentinel. You want us to rerun the tests?"

Shortly after Tony became a shaman, once he was out of the hospital, they had brought up the issue of his sentinel. There was a very good chance, Blair and Jae reasoned, that his sentinel was already out there, as shamans usually only became such after bonding. The leading theory was that the extra abilities were taxing to a guide, and they needed the grounding of their sentinel to help handle the initial onslaught.

Since Blair had easily identified a dozen different times when Tony should have come online as a guide, before becoming a shaman, they were all fairly certain that his sentinel was already out there, waiting for him. Jae had even proposed that coming in contact with his sentinel might help Tony push through whatever block was keeping him from fully becoming a guide.

Unfortunately, they soon discovered that the standard genetic matching that the Centers did to help connect guides and sentinels wasn't one hundred percent reliable for someone who was still latent, like Tony. With some of the genetic markers not reading, he could only find his 'best guess' matches, and there were over a dozen of those. One was even Gibbs, and discovering that put a dent in their plans. If Gibbs was Tony's match, then his presence had done nothing to pull Tony online.

Now that he was a full guide, however, the genetic testing should finally be able to accurately match him to his sentinel. "Yeah, let's do it," Tony agreed. "Might as well see who's out there for me."

Hearing that, the doctor pulled an empty vial from his tray and popped it onto the port on Tony's arm. Once it was filled with blood, he pulled it off and pocketed it.

"Part of me wants to say that it's easier if you know your Sentinel beforehand, but on the other hand I actually know Gibbs." Jae teased as the doctor worked.

Tony chuckled. "Yeah, he has that effect on people."

Their smirks turned to full blown laughter a moment later when Gibbs burst into the room, trailed by a very nervous Petty Officer Davis.

"Hey Gibbs," Tony greeted him cheerfully. "I see you hightailed it here and sent Kate to my place to get my stuff?"

"Abby," Gibbs shook his head. "Kate and McGee are wrapping up the scene with Ducky. We got a body in Shenandoah at four hundred."

Tony winced. Bad enough he was late, but to have missed a body? "Sorry Boss," he said quickly.

"Not your fault," Gibbs said, then smirked. "Being drugged and kidnapped by the S&G Center is one of the few acceptable reasons for being unreachable," he threw Tony's line from earlier back at him.

"Great, now that that's been settled, you two can catch up while we get these drugs flushed out of your system," Jae declared cheerfully. "Tony, the Doc here will be right next door, and he'll monitor you for distress if you struggle to bring your shields up. We'll be back with your test results in a bit, too."

Tony belatedly realized that if Gibbs had been his match, they would have had far different reactions upon seeing each other again. Privately, he felt a little relief. While he enjoyed working with Gibbs as a partner, and he could appreciate the man's appearance, he wasn't really attracted to him. He would have dealt with it if Gibbs was his sentinel, but secretly Tony was glad that they weren't a perfect match.

"Now if you'll excuse me, Marius is having all the fun knocking heads together without me," Jae's smirk had a razor edge to it, and Tony didn't envy the idiots who were about to feel his wrath.

Jae's spirit animal fit him so well, and not just because they were both Australian — kangaroos looked cute and innocent to the uninitiated, but they were cunning and fierce fighters. Jae was a champion swimmer and boxer in college, and regularly sparred with Marius and the other sentinels.

He'd sparred a few times with Tony while they were training up his shaman gifts, to help Tony tune out things like aura flares during a fight, and Jae had easily held his own. If he needed to, Tony could have taken him down, but not without someone getting hurt. No, Tony didn't envy the sentinels and guides of the night shift at all. Of course, they were the idiots who had personally annoyed Tony, so he wasn't about to try to save them from their fates, either.

With Jae and the doctor gone, Davis soon followed to await Abby, leaving Tony alone with Gibbs. Dragging one of the two chairs from the small table over to the bed, Gibbs settled in beside Tony. Since it wasn't a hospital bed he could raise, Tony had to settle for propping up the pillows against the headboard and leaning against them.

"Sitrep," Gibbs said easily. He wasn't angry at Tony, but his tone was serious. Once again, Tony began to explain what little he knew about the night before.

Chapter Text

By lunch time, Abby had bounced into the room with everything Tony could possibly need from his apartment, and Gibbs had helped him temporarily disconnect the IV line long enough to change into the jeans and button down she brought. She had also put Davis at ease — now permanently assigned as his guard to keep others out, rather than to keep Tony in — as she chatted away with him about his time in the Navy and all of the interesting cases they'd solved. It turned out the kid was third generation Navy — hence his healthy respect for NCIS — and a first generation sentinel, so he volunteered at the Center whenever he was in port.

The doctor had visited once, to add another medication to his IV "to counteract the second sedative," because apparently the night shift hadn't just been stupid, they'd been inconsistent. At the time, he'd spent a moment staring intently at Tony before declaring that he felt fairly well shielded, despite the drugs being only half out of his system. The doctor had left with a contemplative frown, and Tony just sighed and sank back against the pillows, wondering if anything about his guide side would ever go normally.

Finally, just after a brief lunch, — or breakfast, for Tony — and as Abby was preparing to go back to work, Jae and Marius swept back into the room. Both were looking much more cheerful, but their grins had a savage undertone that told Tony they weren't exactly happy, but more satisfied with their mornings' dressing downs. Tony was still relying on facial cues and body language to determine everyone's mood, however, as his guide gifts still didn't seem to be putting in an appearance.

Before anyone could settle, a pair of women entered, and Tony was glad to see more people he recognized. "Well look who finally put in an appearance!" he teased.

Emily and Yulia Ivanova-King were the Beta pair of the greater DC area, and split duties with Jae and Marius at the center. Yulia was a martial arts expert, and they owned a small dojo where they also put in time. She had long, straight black hair, sharp green eyes, and pale skin, and wore her sentinel's sword openly at all times.

Tony had never understood why sentinels all used swords, and had finally filed it away under 'primitive throwbacks' when no one could really give him a good answer. Gibbs kept his at home, much preferring his work-issued guns, but Tony suspected that rule nine was somehow related; perhaps a sentinel imperative to have some kind of blade on him.

"We were supposed to have the day off, and then someone decided to finally come online," Emily teased back, giving Tony a quick hug. Fortunately, either he wasn't touch sensitive, or his shields were holding unconsciously, because Tony hadn't struggled with either Abby or Emily's hugs.

Like her wife, Emily was taller than average for a woman, and almost as fair, but that was where the similarities ended. Emily was curvy, with curly brown hair and stunning blue eyes full of laughter. She was a psychologist by trade, with none of the useless mumbo jumbo that had characterized so many of the therapists Tony had met in the past. She'd actually been the one to clear Tony to return to the field after the plague, allowing him to bypass the idiot headshrinker that NCIS used.

She reminded Tony a lot of a female version of Blair, but he couldn't decide if that was because of their attitudes, or something about their shaman nature. Like Tony and Blair, Emily was a shaman, having been called online in a car accident when she was nineteen. While Blair had to return home soon after Tony came online, Emily had done the bulk of his shaman training.

Right on their heels, Blair and his sentinel, Jim, arrived. Blair looked excited enough for all of them, while Jim just looked bored as he propped up the wall. Since Tony had used that exact expression and pose in interrogation on many occasions, he didn't take Jim's apparent uninterest as anything but a smoke screen.

"Well, it's about time, Tony!" Blair said in greeting, echoing everyone else's sentiments.

"That's what I said," Jae smirked.

"Not my fault," Tony held up his hands to ward off their taunts. "I'd much rather have come online properly the first time I was shot at, rather than all this backwards nonsense."

A flicker of irritation swept across Blair's face before he smoothed it out into a cheerful smile again. It was enough, though, for Tony to guess what he was feeling. After giving Blair and Emily enough information to write a biography of him, they had come up with a theory about why Tony had never come online properly.

From what they explained, it was a combination of "DiNozzo's never—" and several things that Tony still wasn't quite comfortable categorizing as child abuse. Intellectually, as a cop, he knew that they were, but since it had happened to him, Tony had trouble making the leap to label his father as abusive — which, apparently, was one of the symptoms.

Essentially, as Emily explained, his father's constant reinforcement of what DiNozzo's didn't do — including being emotional or becoming puny guides — had combined with the learned belief that Tony's own wants, needs, and safety weren't important.

Because of his father's unintentional — God, he hoped it was unintentional! — conditioning, young Tony had formed some kind of mental block that none of the threats to his life had been strong enough to overcome. Somehow, the fact that he might die wasn't a good enough reason to become a guide, in Tony's psyche. Just like how damage to him didn't really qualify as abuse in his mind.

It felt a little hokey, and Tony wasn't entirely sure he believed them, but Blair and Emily had both claimed to see the blocks when they examined his empathic landscape, and who was he to argue with two shamans? Whether it was true or not, Blair believed it, and he always got a little upset when Tony joked about his inability to come online.

"Do you know what did finally pull him online?" Abby asked eagerly. "Tony said he was just laying in bed when it happened."

"We've got a theory," Emily said, though Tony could sense that she too was slightly upset. "Tony mentioned a feeling of wrongness and a kind of mental itching before he blacked out. And he's been rubbing his chest consistently since he woke up."

Tony immediately realized that he had been unconsciously doing it again and quickly dropped his hand.

"His sentinel longing," Abby — as both a scientist and a guide herself — was able to connect the dots in the evidence easily. "You think his sentinel pulled him online."

"We do," Blair nodded. "But, because it's Tony, nothing's ever that easy."

Tony sighed, but it wasn't like he had any room to argue that point. "What now?" he asked, resigned.

"We ran the tests twice, mate, and you've got no match in the system," Jae piped up, holding up his tablet in illustration. "We even double checked all the international databases individually, and we're out for a duck."

"But you said that shamans always have a sentinel," Abby protested.

"And they do," Blair agreed. "Emily and I checked with every other living shaman, and I looked back through the records. On rare occasions the shaman might come online as a guide before their sentinel, but never as a shaman. That always happens last, and usually after bonding, unless, like Emily, they online as both at the same time. And both Emily and the other current shaman who simultaneously onlined found their Sentinel within days, in the same city. All the evidence we have says that shamans aren't supposed to be without their sentinels."

"So his sentinel is out there somewhere, but hasn't registered his genetic imprint in any of your databases," Gibbs concluded.

"That's the best we can come up with," Blair shrugged. "For the most part, the Centers are very good about registering all new sentinels and guides, even if they immediately find their match, because we do sometimes use the databases for other purposes. Unless, somehow, their sample was corrupted, or entered incorrectly, or deleted through some glitch, there's no reason for them not to be there. We're talking about a sentinel who has to have been online for at least a year and a half now, and hasn't been registered anywhere? It's highly unlikely."

"So just about what I should have been expecting," Tony said a little sourly.

Abby gently smacked his arm. "Don't count yourself out, Tony," she scolded. "We'll figure this out."

"At the moment, our best lead is actually the fact that your sentinel pulled you online," Emily said encouragingly. "While it isn't good for them that they were in distress, it helps us narrow things down. If we know approximately when you came online, even if your sentinel isn't registered, someone nearby should have sensed their distress and reported it to the nearest Center. If we can narrow down when, and then where, we're looking, then we can have a much better chance at finding them."

Tony thought back to the night before, and was hit with the memory of looking at his bedside clock. "I can do you better than an approximation," he said wryly. "I was feeling off all evening, and kept awake tossing and turning. But I happened to look at the clock about two minutes before I got ripped online and blacked out. It was 0243, so call it 0245 on the nose when it hit me."

"And there's no way your clock was off a little?" Jim asked sharply, as the others traded looks of amusement or hope.

"Nope," Tony jerked his thumb at Gibbs in explanation. "Every clock I own is set to military standard time, and I check every few weeks or so to make sure nothing's slipped. I'm not risking being late because my alarm's gone slow. Short of a power outage, I'm dead accurate."

"Well that will narrow things down considerably," Emily said. She turned to her partner. "Yulia?"

"Sentinel in distress at quarter to three this morning: we're on it," she said smartly, before she turned to leave. Marius exchanged a glance with Jae and then followed her out.

"Tony, is there anything else you can give us besides a feeling of wrongness? Any spikes of emotion? Pain in a specific area?" Emily prodded.

Closing his eyes and casting his mind back, Tony tried to isolate what he had been feeling that evening and into the night. He'd originally been staying at NCIS late to complete the end of month paperwork, but the irritating itchiness wouldn't let him concentrate, so he'd finally gone home. He hadn't felt like cooking, or even warming up some leftovers, so he'd ordered Thai food delivered. Then he'd propped himself up on the couch to watch a new historical documentary, hoping to divert his attention.

Suddenly, it clicked. "When I got up to get the door for the delivery guy, my arm had fallen asleep," he thought aloud. "I barely noticed it because it felt just like the tingles — what I've been calling itchiness — I'd been feeling all afternoon."

"Okay, that's good, Tony," Emily said, stroking his arm appreciatively. Tony suddenly realized they were treating him the same way he would treat a witness to a crime at work. In the next breath, he realized that, in some ways, that's exactly what he was. He was a witness — albeit from a distance and via empathy instead of the usual sight or sound — to whatever had happened to his sentinel.

"Anything else besides the tingles like you'd fallen asleep, mate?" Jae piped up. "Maybe a stubbed toe or hitting your funny bone?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "You're not as funny as you think you are," he warned him. Tony knew it wasn't the most helpful description, but it was what he had. "I can only give you evidence by exclusion," he shrugged, then began ticking off the usual suspects from his shaman training on his fingers: "No sharp pains in any specific part of my body. No dull aches in any parts of my body. No bursts of any emotion. No gradually increasing emotions. No emotions that didn't feel like my own. No intruding thoughts or calls for help. Just the kind of tingles you get from restoring circulation."

"Exclusion is better than nothing, Tony," Blair hurried to reassure him. "You've done really well. Between that and the time, I'm sure we'll make some progress."

With another flurry of exchanged glances, Jae left to update the sentinels. Gibbs had a quiet word with Abby, and she quickly gave Tony a kiss on the cheek before leaving to return to work and check out the evidence that the others had gathered in her absence.

Of course, she did pause long enough to ask Poe to stay and keep an eye on Tony, just like she had in the first weeks when he came online, so he wasn't entirely free of her gaze. Tony would have felt worse about keeping her — and especially Gibbs! — from their jobs, but he'd watched earlier as Gibbs called to check in with the Director.

Gibbs had told the Director firmly that this was a Sentinel and Guide matter, which had immediately shut down her protests. Then, to Tony's surprise, he'd also pointed out that Balboa was fully capable of taking the lead on this morning's case, and that it would do Kate and McGee good to experience a different style of leadership. Tony had stared at Gibbs for several minutes in complete bafflement after the call was over, until he'd finally given Tony a headslap and said fondly, "Rule 28."

"But Boss, that's 'if you need help, ask,'" Tony protested. He hadn't asked for anything but his go bag and to not be blamed for missing work.

"That's your version," Gibbs smirked. "There's a special DiNozzo corollary: 'When he needs help, even when he doesn't ask, give it.'"

Tony was certain he'd turned bright red in his embarrassed gratefulness at the time.

Now, after their earlier conversation, Tony knew better than to protest when Abby left but Gibbs stayed. Even though Tony was sure he was putting his boss out, he knew better than to suggest that Gibbs break one of his own rules — even the corollary version.

Finally it was down to just Tony, Gibbs, and the two shamans, — plus Jim still propping up the wall — with Poe and Baloo curled together in the corner. Blair snagged Abby's empty chair, while Emily perched on the foot of Tony's bed.

"Oh, I'm not gonna like this, am I?" Tony asked warily, eyeing the two shamans.

"This shouldn't hurt," Emily hurried to reassure him.

"We're concerned about the variety of drugs you were given last night," Blair said with a small frown. "You should have had much more trouble bringing up your shields as they metabolized at different rates. But Doctor Singer said your shields were steady when he checked."

Tony vaguely recalled that, but he had mostly just been relieved that he hadn't been flooded with emotions he was unable to block. Some of the warning pamphlets they gave to latents — which he'd finally been handed once he became a shaman — were enough to make you hope to never come online! "So you want to double check?" he asked. "Go ahead."

Most people were understandably wary about letting a guide — especially a shaman — root around in their mind, but Tony had overcome that modesty in his first week of 'shaman school'. He never would have made it this far if he hadn't been able to let Blair into his empathic mindscape without fighting him every step of the way. And if he hadn't had Blair and Emily's guidance, he never would have made it to the Spirit Plane, and met his spirit animal.

"Shenzi!" Tony suddenly burst out, worried. While Gibbs might have been embarrassed to have his spirit animal named after a Disney character, Tony thought it was quite fitting to pick a movie reference for his own. And Shenzi was as savage and humorous as her namesake. "I haven't seen her anywhere! You said that once I became a real guide, she'd be able to manifest in our world. Is it the drugs keeping her away?"

Emily and Blair exchanged a glance, but Tony couldn't read the details just from their facial expressions. "That's certainly one thing we want to check on," Blair finally said.

Tony tried to relax his body and mind as he settled back against the pillows. "Alright, let's do it," he prompted them. Blair took Tony's hand, while Emily rested hers on his foot, and then both of them took a deep breath and closed their eyes.

They were still for a long couple of minutes, but Tony never felt the prompting that they used to draw him to the Spirit Plane, so he had to assume that nothing was seriously wrong. If Shenzi was there but hurt, he had no doubts that Blair would have called for him immediately.

Finally, after a good ten minutes had passed, — during which Gibbs quietly brought him up to speed on the case, and Tony did his best not to worry — Blair and Emily opened their eyes.

"Well, that was different," Emily said immediately, her slight amusement making Tony feel much better. She wouldn't have been that happy if Shenzi was in trouble.

"Agreed," Blair nodded.

"Gonna clue in the newbie any time soon?" Tony prodded them.

"Oh, yes," Blair seemed to just realize he was there. "First of all, Shenzi isn't in the Spirit Plane, and there are no signs of distress in her den. We called upon our own familiars, and they indicated that she was on our Plane, but busy. Our best guess is that she is with your Sentinel, watching over them and possibly protecting them."

"Well that's a relief," Tony said. He'd hated the idea that Shenzi could get hurt on the Spirit Plane when he couldn't control his own abilities enough to get to her side. Fortunately, one of the first things they taught him was how to make his own way to the Spirit Plane, without needing Blair or Emily to clear a path for him first. Now that he was a fully fledged guide, it should be even easier for him to access it. Still, knowing that Shenzi was fine, just elsewhere, was a weight off of his mind.

"It is," Emily agreed. "And it makes us hopeful that we will be able to find your sentinel, since she's already done so. Now, with regards to your shields…"

"They're very impressive," Blair whistled.

"I thought you said they were relatively normal, last year," Tony pointed out. He had been fairly certain that the duo wasn't telling him something about his shields, back when he first started training, but hadn't been able to draw a straight answer out of them at the time. Eventually, since it didn't seem to affect his ability to control his talents, he had let it drop. But now, he had no intentions of letting them prevaricate. "Are you finally gonna tell me what was hinky with them before?"

Blair and Emily exchanged a glance, but this one Tony could easily read as passing the hot potato. Finally, Blair cleared his throat. "Tony, most people make shields of whatever they think of as particularly secure. Usually these are one of a handful of generic things: metal, stone, concrete, brick, and so on, and for the most part the shape of them tends to resemble a wall, a large dam, or some kind of force-field."

"Sometimes you'll get someone with a particularly detailed imagination — I met a guide once who worked for a bank, and her shields resembled a high security vault, with the spinning locks and round door and everything. Instead of 'thinning' them, as we usually instruct new guides to do, she would crack open the vault door." Blair explained, excitedly.

"Okay, I follow so far," Tony said. "And I take it that mine weren't a typical material or shape? That's what you two weren't telling me before?"

"Your shields were incomplete, because you were only partially online, but the closest thing we could compare them to were the Himalayas," Emily told him gently.

"The mountain range?" Tony asked skeptically.

Blair nodded. "Not in the sense of familiar landmarks, Tony, but yes, generally speaking. Your shields were formed like a huge mountain range, with the open top a sign of your incomplete status. There was a rocky undertone that was fairly typical of shields, but the whole thing was covered in what looked like ice and snow."

"Okaaay," Tony drawled, trying to find a connection. "So, like, that ski trip when I was six really made a lasting impression?"

"It's possible," Emily said slowly, "but now that you're online as a guide, they've changed in a way that makes that unlikely."

"Tony, to put it bluntly, your shields look like a giant glacier," Blair finally bit the bullet.

"So what, Superman's Fortress of Solitude?" Tony named the first thing that came to mind. "I was always a fan of those movies: Christopher Reeve, and the crystalline pillars everywhere. I suppose it seems kind of fitting."

"Perhaps, though our mental images are usually more unified with our sense of self, and your spirit animal is a hyena — in no way associated with mountains or ice," Blair said. "It's an—"

"An anomaly," Tony finished the familiar line with him sourly. "I'm just full of those."

"On the plus side, they're extremely strong," Emily said reassuringly, patting his leg. "Blair and I couldn't crack them, and we'll need you to go back in with us to thin them so we can make sure that your empathic landscape didn't suffer any trauma from you coming online, or the subsequent drugging."

"Okay," Tony sighed, but accepted her comfort in the spirit it was offered. "So meditation time?" He smirked at Gibbs. "I'm sure it's about time for your coffee fix, Boss, if you don't want to sit here and watch us do nothing." Abby had of course included his coffee order with the subs and chips she'd brought for their late brunch earlier, but it was long since finished.

Gibbs lightly cuffed Tony on the head, but smiled and teased back, "Need more than just coffee to make it through that."

Tony laughed as Gibbs hoisted himself up and headed for the door, collecting Jim on the way. "Bring me back a hot chocolate, would you?" He didn't know why so many sentinels fled at the mere mention of the word meditation, but so far it had been a universal trait.

Gibbs waved his agreement and then disappeared.

Emily and Blair settled themselves more comfortably and then closed their eyes, quickly dropping into the deep, meditative breathing that they had taught him to do. Suppressing a sigh — for all that he was a shaman, Tony was too much of a fidgeter, and liked meditation about as much as a sentinel! — Tony took a deep, cleansing breath, and followed them.

Tony wasn't sure how much time had passed when they finished their meditative trance, but his stomach was grumbling when he opened his eyes. Seeing his shields for himself, Tony was reminded less of Superman's Fortress of Solitude, and more of a documentary about the polar ice sheets he'd once seen on the Discovery channel.

Still, Tony had figured out how to 'thin' them; to his surprise, Blair's earlier story about the guide with the bank vault actually helped. Instead of trying to fully melt the ice or something, which would have been his first guess that fit the idea of 'thinning', he pulled on the Superman theme.

Tony imagined a decent sized tunnel carved through the ice, and then envisioned a door in the outer wall. He wasn't sure if it was more of the bank vault metaphor, or the fact that he'd caught part of a Lord of the Rings marathon on TV last weekend, but he ended up with a vaguely hobbit-like round door in his glacier wall. Instead of a spinning lock that could open it a crack, he imagined a further ring of concentric circles in the door, leading to a peephole at the very center. Tony could pull each ring in, creating anywhere from a finger-width hole to one the size of his head.

Since Blair and Emily were able to use those small openings to come inside and investigate his empathic mindscape, without the emotional noise from outside overwhelming Tony, he figured it was a job well done. The two shamans had already warned him that he would be taking a lot of time in the coming weeks training his new gifts, and he would soon figure out the size of openings he would need to access his various empathic talents.

Thankfully, despite his rather tumultuous night, Tony hadn't suffered any empathic damage from either his onlining or his drugging, and his shields were rock solid. Well, ice solid. Tony would come up with a better metaphor later. He still wasn't sure why his unconscious mind had gone the glacier route — comparisons to Superman aside — but Tony figured his subconscious would make the connection clear sooner or later.

Now that they were done, Tony glanced at his watch and saw that it was after fifteen hundred — they'd been at this for over two hours! Looking around, he saw that Jim was gone, but Gibbs had returned, and as soon as Tony caught his eye Gibbs handed over his hot chocolate. Tony wasn't sure if they'd used a microwave, or some sentinel sense of how long it would take and had only just gone back to the coffee kiosk at the Center, but his hot chocolate was exactly the perfect temperature.

Gulping it down gratefully, Tony couldn't even bring himself to feel embarrassed when his stomach grumbled noisily again. Thankfully, Blair's did the same a moment later.

"And that's our cue to get you boys fed," Emily said with a laugh.

"Well, are my shields strong enough to let me out of this room?" Tony asked, only half in jest.

"They should be more than strong enough," Blair agreed. "But if you start to feel the pressure as you encounter more and more people, just let us know and we'll take a minute to shore them up."

One of the many things Tony appreciated about Blair was how nothing seemed to phase him. He spoke about the possibility of Tony having an empathic meltdown from overstimulation the same way someone talked about deciding if they wanted one sandwich or two. Try one, see how you feel, and then try another.

Thankfully, Tony's shields held steady, even in the small cafe next door to the Center. Of course, almost everyone around him was a guide or sentinel, and thus had shields of their own to some degree, but the fact that Tony didn't even feel a tiny waver gave him a lot more confidence about going back out into the real world.

As a shaman, most of Tony's new gifts had been things he could sense, or things he could do. His ability to see auras, for instance, wasn't painful: just annoying until he could get the hang of tuning them out at work. His ability to travel to the Spirit Plane wasn't impacted by other people, nor was his ability to see spirit animals. Empathic healing was exhausting without his regular guide gift of empathy, so he never did it, but it also wasn't something that Tony needed to guard against.

Tony was slightly more receptive to sensing other people's emotions, especially if they were broadcasting them, but his rudimentary shields were enough to protect him from that. His tribal imperative was theoretically a guide sense, not a shaman one, but with it manifesting even while he was latent, Tony tended to lump it in with the rest.

He and Blair had had several lively debates over whether Tony's ability to make wild intuitive leaps on cases based on seemingly unrelated movies or memories was some kind of empathic shaman power or not. Either way, it didn't require guarding his mind to function normally.

On the other hand, most of the standard guide's kit of powers required heavy-duty shielding. Keeping other people's emotions from intruding on your own, and keeping your own emotions from intruding on other people were the biggies. But, to a certain extent, strong shields were needed to properly use empathic projection and healing. And they were a must if you were touch sensitive or had the very rare talents of empathic reading or foresight.

Even the less exhaustive gifts, — like basic lie detection and sensing other sentinels and guides — could become overwhelming without good shielding. Especially if you used them a lot, as most cops and agents tended to do. Fortunately, Tony didn't have strong touch empathy, or the casual touches from the others would have acted like iron spikes right through his shields.

The training that Tony had done after becoming a shaman was largely focused on accessing the Spirit Plane, regulating his emotional output so that he wasn't hammering at the guides around him, and controlling his aura sight. They'd barely touched on shielding, so Tony was lucky that he had created them so intuitively after his second onlining.

Without having to worry about actively holding up his shields, Tony was able to enjoy the short, filling, meal — he'd already learned that the Center cafe made an excellent Ruben and steak fries. It was a little too late to be lunch, but too early to be dinner, but Tony didn't care: he'd been drugged asleep well into the morning, and metabolizing all that crap was hungry work! Having done their own empathic heavy lifting, Blair, and Emily were also eager for more than a snack, while Gibbs simply kept them company.

After they finished, Gibbs detoured off for another coffee, and Emily went to check in with Jae for an update about Tony's sentinel. As such, it was only Tony, himself, and Blair who returned together to his room in the isolation wing of the S&G Center.

As they settled back into their places — Blair on the chair and Tony on the bed, though he was sitting on top of the covers this time — Baloo and Poe both suddenly perked up. His months of familiarity with the two spirit animals gave him a pretty good insight into their thinking, and Tony was fairly certain that they were sensing another spirit animal. It was the exact kind of behavior that real animals did when encountering each other, but for the most part spirit animals ignored real animals.

When nothing appeared in his line of sight, Tony began looking around for the mysterious spirit animal. Could Shenzi have finally made an appearance, but be hiding for some reason?

"Tony?" Blair questioned.

"They're acting like we've got a visitor," Tony waved vaguely at the duo in the corner. "Come on out, we're not gonna hurt you," he cooed. If anyone but Abby or Blair witnessed him acting this way, Tony would have threatened them to secrecy, but he'd made more than enough of a fool of himself in front of those two not to care any more.

Thinking of Abby gave him an idea, and as Blair began to look around in confusion, Tony asked, "Poe, can you help make our new friend a little more comfortable?"

Despite his shamanistic strong connection to spirit animals, it wasn't like Tony could command other people's familiars. Still, Poe had shown many times that his personality mirrored Abby's, and it was exactly the kind of request that she wouldn't hesitate to fulfill.

To Tony's delight, it worked, and Poe got up, tail wagging, and tongue sticking out beneath his black dreadlocks. Tony and Blair both watched, entranced, as Poe bounded up to the bed, then got down on his belly, rear still wiggling up in the air.

After a moment, Poe whined slightly, and Tony figured it couldn't hurt to offer his own encouragement. "We're not going to hurt you, little one." He wasn't positive the spirit animal was all that 'little', but if it fit beneath his bed — something that Baloo could have never managed — then the word fit close enough. Tony continued in his most soothing tone, "We'd like to help you. I bet you've got a sentinel in distress back home that you're worried about, huh? We'd like to help them for you."

Poe gave a little, reassuring yip, and then wiggled backwards an inch. After a moment, he wiggled backwards again. Slowly, a step at a time, he backed up, until finally, nose to nose, Poe drew out their guest. Poe was just on the large side of being comfortably called a lap dog, and he was slightly bigger than their trembling guest.

"Well hello there," Tony said as it appeared. "I can tell you're a feline of some kind, and with those ear tufts you look like some kind of lynx, but I'm afraid I'm not positive exactly what breed…"

"That's a bobcat — a male," Blair said, "or he'd be much smaller than Poe. The females clock in around the same size as a large housecat. From the thick ruff around his face, I'd say he's in his winter coat, even though it's summer right now."

"Oh, I've heard of those, but I guess I'm too much of a city boy," Tony said. "You look like you've been through the wars, fella," he addressed the bobcat. The cat was thin, his ribs showing, and his thick fur was matted and patchy. His legs seemed unsteady, and tremors wracked his frame. From Tony's lessons, he knew that was an indicator of the state of the animal's sentinel.

"Can I get a closer look at you?" Tony asked rolling onto his side, holding down a hand for the cat to sniff. He'd found that most spirit animals didn't like contact, and preferred to initiate it. They also tended to act like domesticated versions of real animals, with cats and dogs inclined to learn by smell.

Thankfully, the bobcat didn't recoil, but smelled Tony's hand tentatively. Then, he rubbed his jowl against Tony's wrist, butting his hand playfully. Tony accepted the invitation to give the cat scratches on its ears and chin, and it began purring. Poe gave a happy yip and then licked Tony's cheek.

"Well, I'd say that's pretty definitive," Blair murmured. "I'd be shocked if he wasn't your sentinel's familiar."

"Which supports our theory that Shenzi is with my sentinel," Tony agreed, continuing to love on the bobcat. "And this fellow came to find me. Although, his condition…"

"Is worrisome," Blair agreed, nodding so hard his curly hair bounced. "With spirit animals, their physical state can be indicative of the physical or mental state of their human. Unfortunately, your idiom might be more accurate than you intended."

"Huh?" Tony knew he wasn't stupid, but sometimes Blair used phrases that took him a minute to parse. And admittedly, he wasn't at his best today.

"You said he looked like he'd been through the wars," Blair reminded him. "That might be the literal truth."

"Oh!" Tony looked back at the bobcat, taking in his bedraggled state. "We need to get to my sentinel sooner, rather than later," he said firmly.

"Would you be willing to come up on the bed, so we can get a better look at you?" Blair asked the bobcat.

It cocked its head, considering them both with its strong golden eyes. Then, with a small merp of assent, it turned around and leapt up onto the bed. In motion, it was clear that something was wrong with his right hind leg, and Tony began to run a gentle hand over its back and legs. Blair held out his hand for inspection, and, once the bobcat gave his approval, began to gently explore as well.

Now that the cat was half-laying on Tony's legs, he had a much better sense of it. "It's so cold. Usually spirit animals feel like normal animals to me. Is the cold because of his sentinel's distress?"

"Possibly," Blair said thoughtfully. "So few shamans have your strong affinity with spirit animals, so we don't have a large sample size for comparison. Everyone agrees that feeling their own familiar, or their partner's familiar, is different than a stranger's, but that's usually because a stranger's animal is reacting to a threat. The cold could very well be a clue, but we don't have enough information to interpret it."

The opening door startled all three of them, but Tony and Blair both instinctively clamped down on the bobcat. "Shhhh, it's okay, those are friends of ours," Tony soothed it quietly.

"We don't want too many people in here," Blair warned Emily, Jae, and Gibbs as they entered. "We've gotten another clue from our newest visitor."

Gibbs nodded and stayed by the door, taking up Jim's former position of propping up the wall. Jae and Emily both came forward a few steps, but stopped when the bobcat tensed.

"Hey there lil' mate," Jae greeted the bobcat cheerfully, though he maintained his distance. "We're all good guys: sentinels and guides. We aren't gonna hurt you. We're trying to help Tony find your sentinel."

"Did you find anything?" Tony asked.

"We did, and it's as strange as everything else aboutcha, mate," Jae joked.

Tony huffed, but didn't protest further. "And?"

"Well, I think this lil' mate's had a bit of a journey. Did you come from New York City lil' mate?" he asked the bobcat. It's head stilled, considering. Then it meowed plaintively.

"I don't think he's positive," Tony said. "Place names might be lost on him."

"Well I'm not deterred," Jae said. "Throughout the evening last night in New York, several guides got sporadic, momentary hits of sentinel in distress that disappeared as quickly as they came. Then, bang on 2:45 in the morning, one giant dose of it. It lasted about five minutes, long enough for a dozen guides to get out of bed and out their doors, looking for a cause, before pft!" he snapped his fingers. "It bloomin' vanished into thin air. No sentinel, no distress, nothing."

"Three of the strongest guides in the area, who are the most sensitive to projected emotions, have continued to get very faint bursts of distress by pushing their senses," Emily added. "There aren't any shamans in the area — Booker in Detroit is the next closest after us — but one of the guides in question is Aria."

"Well that'll make things easier," Blair said cheerfully. At Tony's blank look, he explained, "Aria and her husband George are the Alpha Primes of New York. She's strongly receptive, empathically, and can do a touch of Spirit Reading. If she's been trying to narrow down your sentinel's location all day, she'll have a good area for us to start. We might even be close enough for this little guy to be able to lead us the rest of the way."

"Alright, let's go," Tony said. The only thing keeping him from jumping right to his feet was the skittish bobcat half in his lap. "From everything I've learned, there are only a few ways to block a sentinel from a guide's senses — especially if they're actively looking for him — and none of them make me happy."

"They don't thrill me either," Blair agreed with a scowl.

"We figured you'd say that, mate, and talked it over," Jae said. "Since there's a chance this is a shaman thing, Marius and I'll hold down the fort, while Emily and Yulia go with you."

"I'm coming," Gibbs growled, reminding everyone that he was there.

"Boss?" Tony asked. It was one thing to pull him from a case when he thought Tony was in trouble, or when he was only twenty minutes from the Navy Yard, but it was another thing entirely to drag him all the way to New York, possibly for days.

"On your six, Tony," Gibbs said firmly, echoing Tony's usual reply. Knowing it would be futile to argue further, Tony just nodded.

"Well that's that," Blair said. "I assume you already shared your findings with Jim?"

"He called and told them to prep your jet," Emily confirmed. "He and Yulia are waiting upstairs."

"Then let's go," Blair said firmly.

Chapter Text

As they landed in New York's La Guardia airport, Emily made a quick call back to Jae. By the time everyone had climbed down the stairs, she had an update. "There are only four currently living sentinels with a bobcat recorded as their familiar. Three are bonded, and the other is a bond widow. Jae talked to all of them personally, and none of them are in New York. All were able to summon their familiars. Whoever your mystery sentinel is, not only are they not in our genetic database, but they aren't in our familiar database either," she said grimly.

Tony shrugged: just one more mystery in the bizarre saga of his quest to becoming a guide. At this point, he was practically expecting it.

"What about sentinels with unknown familiars; are there any in New York?" Gibbs asked.

"Most of the sentinels and guides who aren't registered are older, bonded couples in rural areas," Blair explained. "None of them should be Tony's match. There are a few countries who don't participate in the international database efforts…"

"And any number of sentinels from those countries could be in New York right now, for any number of reasons," Emily agreed. "Jae tried to do a search, but it's like looking for a black hole. We know which countries don't participate, but then to find every person from that country who might be in the United States, and to make a stab at which ones might be a sentinel and might be in New York right now… he figured out pretty quickly that the scope of that kind of search is just impossible."

"Okay, so that's a dead end," Blair said. "Let's check in with Aria at the Center and see what she's got."

"I spoke to her after we determined that the sentinel was in New York," Yulia said shortly. "She is meeting us with a car here at the airport."

"That'll speed things up," Blair said gratefully. It took them only a few minutes to get through the private terminal's security, since none of them had checked bags, and Blair and Jim as the Alpha Primes of the continent had the equivalent of diplomatic immunity.

Outside, they found a large black extended SUV waiting for them. A short, older, black woman with a mane of deep red, kinky, hair was leaning against the tailgate. "Blair, Jim!" she said warmly, stepping forward to pull each of them into a hug. "Emily, Yulia: it's been too long," she declared next, pulling them into hugs as well.

Finally she turned to Gibbs and Tony, who was cuddling the bedraggled bobcat. He had stopped shivering during the flight, and felt much warmer to Tony, but he still looked particularly pathetic. "And you must be Sentinel Gibbs — Jae's description fits you to a tee," she said, a hint of laughter in her voice as she held out her hand for him to shake.

"That's not necessarily a compliment," Tony joked.

"No, it's not," Aria agreed laughingly. She didn't hold out her hand to him, but he wasn't sure if that was because his arms were full of bobcat, or because she didn't want to risk reading him or vice versa. "And you must be Tony: you've had quite the journey to get here, haven't you, son."

"That's one way of putting it," Tony agreed wryly.

"Not as bad as this gentleman, though," Aria continued, leaning in to look at the bobcat. He offered her a merp, and his rough pink tongue darted out to lick his own nose. "Oh yes, I'm quite certain the sentinel I felt was yours, baby," she cooed at it. "He felt just about as bad as you look, sweetling."

"Do you have a place for us to start looking, Aria?" Blair asked.

"Oh, where are my manners!" Aria declared. "Get in, everyone." She ushered them into the SUV, where a stocky, muscular, blond sentinel was waiting in the limo-like expanded interior. "Gibbs, Tony, this is my George," she told them as the driver took off.

"So you're the one doing everything backwards, huh?" George said with a smirk. "Shaman before guide, spirit animal before sentinel?"

"Yeah, I'm a regular Mork," Tony joked.

"I was gonna say Merlin, but if you'd rather be an Orkan, I can get behind that," George said easily. He held up his hand in the traditional greeting. "Na-Nu Na-Nu."

"Great, he's one of you," Gibbs complained.

"Just because you're a pop culture wasteland, Boss, doesn't mean that all sentinels are," Tony shot back.

Gibbs just threw him a look that clearly conveyed a headslap in his future, once he wasn't holding onto a skittish spirit animal.

"Now that the two aliens have finished greeting each other, where are we headed?" Blair asked.

"As you know, our Manhattan S&G Center is off of Central Park," Aria said easily. "All of our reports were in the southern end of the island, with the bulk of them centered in Hells' Kitchen and the Garment District."

"Just south of Central Park, then," Tony said, easily recalling the area from his childhood in the city. His father had used a handful of office buildings in Manhattan over the years.

"Indeed," Aria nodded. "The three of us who are able to push through the blockade and get glimpses of him have done our best to triangulate things, and he's somewhere between the Rockefeller Center, Bryant Park, and 10th street. Now that's still several dozen city blocks, but if we can get you close enough…"

"This little guy might be able to lead us the rest of the way," Tony agreed, stroking his hand down the bobcat's back.

"Exactly." Aria agreed.

"I'd say it's worth a try," Blair said, the other guides and sentinels nodding in agreement. This time of the evening, it only took them about twenty minutes to get through the midtown tunnel and begin to narrow in on their destination.

As they drove along West 42nd street beside Bryant park, the bobcat began to perk up. "Oh, I'd say we're getting closer," Blair said, eyeing it.

George murmured something to the driver, and they made a right turn. The bobcat began scenting the air, ears twitching. It quickly zeroed in on the left side of the car. "Take West 49th," George told the driver. "We'll do a spiral search pattern."

The bobcat stood in Tony's lap, staring intently at the left side window as his ears and tail twitched madly. When they crossed 8th Avenue, however, it let out a whine and started pawing at his shoulder, looking backwards. "I think we've gone too far," Tony stated the obvious.

"Oh yes, I'd say your man is between sixth and eighth streets for certain," Aria agreed. As George and the driver conspired to get them turned around properly with all the one way streets in the area, Tony soothed the bobcat.

As they drew closer, Tony suddenly felt a surge of the pins and needles sensation from before. A sharp burst of longing in his chest made him gasp and clutch at his sternum. "He's here," he managed to gasp out.

Tony barely heard George saying "Pull over," and then someone was tugging Tony out of the car. His mind's eye was filled with flashes of a sterile medical room, obscuring the Manhattan streets around him.

"I sense powerful dampeners," Yulia's disgusted voice broke through the chaos in Tony's mind.

"SHIELD," came Jim's disgusted and Blair's resigned response simultaneously.

"We should have known," George added with annoyance. "They're the only ones with that particular blend of paranoia and secretiveness. I didn't realize they had a building in this block."

"Tony!" Gibbs's sharp headsmack brought Tony out of his daze. the bobcat hissed at Gibbs, but Tony petted it comfortingly. "Put him down so he can lead the way," Gibbs instructed.

"Yes, Boss," Tony said instantly, his body reacting to the familiarity of following Gibbs's orders before his mind caught up with it. He put the bobcat down and it wound between his feet, rubbing it's head against his knees.

"Badge," Gibbs grunted, pulling out his own.

Tony shook his head to clear the last of the ruckus. He was a federal agent, as Gibbs had reminded him. He didn't need to go in there half-cocked! "On it Boss," he said, smoothly drawing his badge and gun. Beside him, Gibbs had done the same. George, Jim, and Blair, did the same with their own creds, while Yulia simply unsheathed her sword.

"I've got your six, Tony," Gibbs quietly reminded him.

"Now, let's go get your Sentinel," Blair said firmly.

"And utterly ruin Fury's day," George chimed in cheerfully. Tony absently noted that he bore an FBI badge as he looked down at the bobcat.

"Lead the way, boy," he murmured.

The bobcat immediately took off, strutting forward with his short bob tail held high. Down the block they arrived at a large building with rows of windows. The bobcat marched right through the door, and Tony followed, shoving his badge in the face of the guard that half-heartedly tried to stop him.

One of the others said "Federal Agents, back off," but Tony didn't pay attention, focused as he was on the pull to his sentinel.

They passed the elevator and hit the door to the stairs, ignoring all the protests that sprung up in their wake. Up one floor, the bobcat growled at the door, and Tony hurried to open it.

"This area is restricted," a deep voice said as a guard shifted to block his way. Tony just shoved his badge in the man's face as the bobcat dipped between his legs.

"Federal Agent," he growled.

"Me too, buddy," the man said, "and this area is still restricted."

"North American Alpha Prime Guide Sandburg," Blair said behind Tony, in the harshest tone he'd ever heard from the Guide. "We are assisting a sentinel in extreme distress, which overrides whatever security restriction you have. Now clear the way."

"Code Eighteen," the guard quickly said into the radio on his shoulder.

"That's it; I'm done." Tony surged forward, hooking his foot around the guard's leg and executing a textbook takedown. Trusting the others to handle the downed guard, he strode forward, following the bobcat and the pull from his own chest.

They passed a pair of open double doors, and he caught a glimpse of a construction in progress, but Tony didn't care why they were building a smaller room inside a larger one. His sentinel wasn't there.

Past a set of closed doors, and then at the third, the cat drew itself up before suddenly hurling forward and phasing through them. Tony was reaching for the door when it suddenly flew open. A pair of guards fell at his feet, with his Shenzi on top of them, snarling.

"Shenzi!" Tony cried.

She yipped a greeting, then leaned forward, pressing down on the two trapped guards, and growled in their faces.

Stepping around her, Tony heard other shouts in the background, but he trusted Gibbs and the others to have his back. Entering the room, Tony found the medical suite he had envisioned, and a terrified nurse in scrubs cornered by his sentinel's bobcat. That barely registered, however, as Tony's entire attention was focused on the man on the gurney in the center of the room.

He was tall, blond, with ripped muscles visible on his chest and shoulders. A silver thermal blanket was pulled up to his chest, and his skin and lips were tinged blue. His hair was bedraggled, he was dirty, and he had a healing split lip. He was the most gorgeous thing Tony had ever seen.

"Sentinel," he breathed.

"Holy shit!" George said behind him. "That's Captain Fucking America!"

Tony felt a familiar presence at his back as Gibbs and the others caught up.

"Babe, It's Captain America! Steve Rogers!" George said delightedly. "He's supposed to be dead!"

Tony took a step forward, reaching for his sentinel, then stopped and jerked his hand back. "I can't—"

"You're right, sweetling; good instincts," Aria said, appearing at his side and clasping his hand in hers. "You don't want to risk him imprinting before he's had a chance to heal. We've got him, though, baby. We've got him and we're going to take him back to my Center, where he'll be safe."

Tony latched onto Aria's voice, letting her cocoon him with her guide aura. A moment later, Emily was at his other side, grabbing his other hand. Her aura swept over Tony, less fiery than Aria's, and bearing the ancient weight of a shaman.

"Our Sentinels are going to take care of yours, Tony," Emily said, her words cutting through the fog in his brain that was full of the need to be with his sentinel.

George and Gibbs stepped forward, and Tony felt for a moment that he should stop them — that he should protect his sentinel — but a burst of assurance from Emily and Aria nullified it. "I'm okay," he grit out. "I'm okay. Let's get him out of here."

"I'd rather you didn't do that," said a strident voice from behind them.

"I don't care what you'd rather," Jim growled. Tony spun around and saw a black man with an eye patch, in head to toe leather, staring down the three in the doorway. Just looking at him made Tony's head swim.

"What?" he mumbled.

"Psionic scramblers," Aria muttered with disgust. "Director Fury wears them all the time. You learn not to reach your senses out to him, or deal with the headache. He does the same with scent maskers for the sentinels."

"You have a sentinel in extreme distress in here, and you're not giving him proper care," Blair piped up. Jim had shoved him into the room, away from Fury, but he glared at the man over Jim and Yulia's shoulders. "Furthermore, you're deliberately shielding him from the duly authorized representatives of the Sentinel and Guide Council."

"We found him under the ice," Fury said patronizingly. "I'm trying to protect him, allow him to acclimate to our time before thrusting him back into the fray."

"Well then, the New York Sentinel and Guide center thanks you for your conscientiousness," George called out with false sincerity that skittered along Tony's wide open empathy, "but now that we've found him, we'll take it from here."

Finally, Tony managed to slam the hole in his shields back closed. Without the driving need to find and bond with his sentinel, he was able to wrest back control of his senses. Shoving away his automatic Holy shit! How is my Sentinel the Captain America? to deal with much later, he focused on Fury.

Now that he was thinking clearly again, Tony could see how uncomfortable the man was. It didn't take a guide: any cop could read the body language he was fighting to disguise. Fury wanted nothing to do with the S&G Center, and he knew exactly what he was doing by hiding Sentinel Rogers from them. Importantly, he still thought he could bluff his way into convincing them to leave.

Tony had a couple of options, but he quickly rejected the obvious. The man might suspect that Tony was Rogers's guide — especially once he had time to check his surveillance tapes and wonder why two pairs from DC were involved in this mess. NCIS had nothing on SHIELD, and no reason to be here, unless Tony or Gibbs was tied to Rogers.

But for now, they had the upper hand. Fury thought his psionic scramblers and scent maskers and whatever else would protect him from sentinels and guides reading him. But Gibbs and Tony were investigators. They didn't need those things to see a man desperately pursuing a bluff.

Squeezing and then releasing Aria's and Emily's hands, Tony drew himself up into his best self-righteous asshole impression. He called it 'The Slacks,' and he knew Gibbs would catch his drift and back his play. "Regardless of the duty you have performed for him, I must remind you that Captain Steven Rogers is a service member of the United States Army," Tony said officiously. He knew that his 180 in attitude would confuse the others, but hopefully they had good enough poker faces not to break his cover.

"Despite his apparent demise, Captain Rogers was officially listed as Missing in Action, not Killed in Action," Tony continued. "As such, he is still listed on the rolls as a currently-serving member of the Army. All currently-serving members of the United States Armed Forces — including Captain Rogers — are subject to the UCMJ. That's the Uniform Code of Military Justice, for those who don't know," Tony said haughtily.

"Captain Rogers must be consulted regarding UCMJ Articles 109, 110, 111, and 113. Further, before he was declared missing, Articles 90, 92, and 85 through 87" Tony was counting on Fury not knowing what those exact regulations stated, despite his Army past, and from the shocked look that briefly flashed through his eyes, he didn't. "Do you know what the current regulations state is the proper protocol for recovering an MIA, presumed POW, currently-serving member of the Armed Forces? Gunny?"

Gibbs snapped to attention, playing his part perfectly. "All recovered service members who have been MIA or POW are subject to a medical quarantine in an authorized military medical institution or camp," he barked. "Until cleared by military medical personnel and released from quarantine, the service member will not be permitted to face interrogation for his prior actions. The only non-medical personnel who are allowed to interview the service member are his commanding officer and his duly appointed JAG representative."

Tony didn't know if that was true, — he suspected it was the same Grade A bullshit he himself was shoveling — but it sounded spectacular, and it had made Fury blanch ever so slightly. Tony took command again. "Since you are neither Captain Rogers' commanding officer, nor a member of JAG, Retired Colonel Fury, you are not entitled to access to Captain Rogers, and, in fact, are currently holding him in violation of the UCMJ Article 84 regarding the breaking of quarantine."

"Furthermore, Captain Rogers is a duly registered Sentinel, a position for which he was also listed as MIA, rather than deceased." Emphasizing his title, Tony continued, "Sentinel Captain Rogers' acknowledged Guide is aware of his location and condition, and is very eager to see him, once Sentinel Captain Rogers has cleared quarantine and all related charges. I would remind you that any actions taken to detain either the aforementioned Guide or Sentinel Captain Rogers would be construed as bond tampering, and would be met with the full force of the International Sentinel and Guide Council."

Fury did not like that either, and Tony suppressed a smirk. "Therefore, if you have anything you wish to discuss with Sentinel Captain Rogers, then once he has been medically and legally cleared, I invite you to send a formal written request through the proper channels with both JAG and the International Sentinel and Guide Council. That will be all, retired Colonel."

Tony held his breath even as he sneered down his nose at Fury. As long as the man didn't figure out that Tony had nothing to do with the Army, and didn't even come close to outranking him, and wasn't the Guide in question, they might get out of this without a firefight.

"Maybe I could consult with your commanding officer, and see if we can come to an arrangement," Fury tried, but his answer was the nail in his coffin. He'd bought Tony's act, and now they needed to capitalize on that as quickly as they could.

Behind his back, Tony signaled Gibbs and George to start gathering up Rogers. "By all means, I invite you to go over my head," Tony said with the same predatory smirk he used when bluffing people like the Macalusos. "Do you happen to have the SecDef's number on speed dial, or should I wait for you to go look it up? Or perhaps did you mean with the International Sentinel and Guide Council? I'm sure Alpha Prime Guide Sandburg can also provide that number for you," Tony said stuffily.

The SecDef didn't know Tony from a hill of beans, but he was counting on Blair and Jim to have this one handled. Blair had mentioned offhand knowing the President during one of their talks a few months back, so getting a hold of the SecDef should be a piece of cake.

"If you don't have it, I'm sure I could call the President and ask him to give it to you," Blair chimed in right on cue.

"If that will be all, we will be taking Sentinel Captain Rogers to a duly authorized facility," Tony declared. He strode forward, sensing Gibbs and the others at his back. With Jim and Yulia clearing the way, Aria and Emily flanking George, who had Rogers in a fireman's carry, Tony and Blair fell into step at the rear, with Gibbs watching their six. The group brushed past Fury, who was looking frustrated but resigned.

With Shenzi, Baloo, Blair's wolf — Smoke, — Jim's jaguar, Rogers' bobcat, and an unfamiliar jackal that Tony assumed belonged to George, ranging ahead and to their sides, any opposition quickly changed their mind. SHIELD had very few sentinels and guides to begin with, and Fury had obviously had the few he commanded keep their distance from Rogers, so no one had a chance of standing up to their determined group. They hustled down the stairs and outside, where the Center's SUV was waiting. Jim opened the door, and they quickly piled inside, laying out Rogers on the back seat.

Once the doors were closed and the driver had sped away, Aria laughed and clapped Tony on the shoulder. "You've got a golden tongue, sweetling."

Tony grinned. "It's a gift."

"Okay, I'm too curious—" Blair said giddily.

"Me too!" George piped up.

"—What did all of those numbers mean?" Blair finished.

Tony laughed. "Let's see, uh, UCMJ Article 84 is actually about breaching medical quarantine, though aimed more at the patient escaping than anyone else who might detain him instead, as I implied. Articles 85 through 87 only apply if Rogers was a deserter or AWOL, which is stretching the MIA thing quite a bit."

"Articles 90 and 92 are for disrespecting a superior and disobeying an order, which we know from the transcripts Rogers technically did in his final mission. No one's actually gonna charge him for not obeying bad orders when it saved lives, though. And 109 through 111 are for absconding with that enemy plane, flying it hazardously, and leaving the scene of the crash, Oh, and 113 is another reckless flying charge," Tony ticked off on his fingers.

The others burst into laughter, while Gibbs just shook his head and smirked.

"Do you really know the SecDef?" Blair asked once everyone caught their breath.

"I know his name," Tony shrugged. "And technically speaking, he's mine and Gibbs's boss's boss's boss, so I only stretched our chain of command a little. But I figured you could cover that angle, Mister I-Casually-Name-Drop-The-President-In-Conversation."

"Well after that master class in bluffing, I'm ready to call it a day," Emily declared.

"We've already got a medical suite prepared for Captain Rogers," Aria said.

"And when we realized we were breaking into SHIELD I sent word to triple the guards," George added. "Plus I alerted the FBI field building, so they'll be loaning us a few sentinel and guide agents for round the clock backup."

"Wouldn't it be better to get him out of New York entirely?" Blair asked.

"Possibly," Gibbs said, "but the next best place to take him would be Washington DC, because that's where Tony is from. But since Fury also has friends on the Hill, and a second base of operations there, we wouldn't necessarily be safer."

"And we'd potentially open ourselves to trouble if we moved him too far without having the Center's Docs go over him first," Emily added.

"Right, the New York Center it is," Tony decided.

Chapter Text

Steve's eyes fluttered as he woke up. He was in a room with soothingly neutral walls. There must have been some kind of advanced noise generators or dampeners — way better than even what Howard had created — because he was barely hearing anything outside of his own room. The lights weren't too bright, and the clothes and sheets he could feel weren't irritating him. He had a residual memory of everything being too cold and too bright and too itchy and too loud, but that was all gone.

He was in a space designed for Sentinels — probably the Sentinel and Guide Center, if he had made it back to New York — and someone was doing their best to keep his senses from spiking. There was another heartbeat — no, two — in the room. Steve cautiously extended his senses: a guide, sitting nearby, and a sentinel, standing a ways away.

Steve's mind quickly filled in the blanks — the sentinel was probably guarding the door, while the guide was the one helping to buffer his senses. Steve had rarely used guides for active buffering to this extent — the serum had left him remarkably stable — except for the rare injury. From what little he could remember of the battle and his determination to crash Schmidt's plane into the ice, it was likely that he had been quite injured. Steve did a quick assessment of his body, but any wounds had since healed, and he felt fine. He felt better than fine, actually: he felt really really good. Was this what being fully buffered by a guide was like? No wonder other sentinels wanted to bond. This was better than he had imagined dancing with Peggy to be.

Steve finally opened his eyes, and found a young woman with a kind smile and laughing eyes sitting in the chair beside him. She was wearing denim pants with a much lower waist and different cut than he was used to, and a button down pale pink shirt that was fitted far more closely to her form than he would have expected. Her golden brown hair curled around her shoulders, and her light eyes lit up when he looked at her. "Welcome back. I'm Guide Emily, and you're safe at the Manhattan Sentinel and Guide Center. Can you tell me your full name and rank?"

"Steven Grant Rogers, Ma'am" Steve replied quickly. He'd seen nurses ask patients this kind of question frequently in hospital wards. He had never known exactly why they did it, but it wasn't unexpected. "I'm an active Sentinel and a Captain in the United States Army."

"Good," Guide Emily smiled at him. "And do you prefer Sentinel or Captain Rogers?"

"I prefer Steve, Ma'am," he admitted easily. "But either of the others is fine."

"Steve it is," Guide Emily said. "And I'm Emily, or Guide Emily. 'Ma'am' where I'm from is for mama or grandma when you're in trouble. And you're not in any trouble, Steve. Now, can you tell me the last thing you remember?"

"Bringing down Schmidt's plane into the ice," Steve said, trying to block out the worst of those memories. "It was on autopilot for New York City, and I didn't know how to disable it."

Guide Emily patted his hand. "You were successful, and you saved the lives of everyone in New York with your actions, Sentinel."

A knot in Steve's chest loosened at that. It was one thing to be confident that your plan would succeed, and another to be told that it had actually worked. "Good." His pressing need to protect America and her citizens had always driven him, but it had become stronger after Doctor Erskine activated his sentinel side.

"Now for the part you don't know. Howard Stark continued to search for your crash location, based on your last known location, your apparent trajectory, and a bunch of computational physics math I don't even pretend to understand." Guide Emily said with a chuckle, scrunching her nose up at the thought. "Unfortunately, he struggled to find you, for reasons that we're still trying to figure out. He even sought help from the Sentinel and Guide Council, but the plane had some kind of advanced psionic shielding, because they weren't able to sense you."

"Since I've obviously been found, I'm assuming it took a lot longer than Howard had hoped," Steve said. He could tell that the Guide was gearing up to give him the news, and he started looking around the room more closely. Before, he'd allowed the feeling of Guide and her presence to distract him, but now he was looking for differences. There was indeed a sentinel just inside the door, and he was dressed in a suit with an unfamiliar cut. His grey hair was in a military haircut, but he didn't strike Steve as Army. He didn't appear to be armed, but Steve could smell the metal and gunpowder on him, so the gun must have been concealed.

"A lot longer," Guide Emily admitted, drawing Steve's attention back to her. "Sentinel, you were in the ice for almost sixty-seven years."

A rush of emotions tore through Steve, and a small, distant part of him was grateful that the Guide let him feel them, instead of buffering them all away. He wondered about Peggy, and Howard, and the Howling Commandos. He knew Bucky was dead, but wondered if they had ever found his body. Steve was even grateful for the first time that he had never found his Guide, though Peggy had been a close match. He would have hated to have made them feel this torn up inside when he was lost at sea.

The sentinel side of Steve's mind did its best to compartmentalize everything, to shove aside the emotions and deal with the here and now. "Do you know what happened to my friends?" he asked.

Guide Emily smiled sadly at him. "I have sparse records for some of them, but I'm not sure of everyone you'd want to know about. I do have information on the Howling Commandos…"

"Yes, them," Steve grasped onto her offer.

"According to their files, Gabe Jones is still alive," Guide Emily said. "Dum Dum Dugan is in a hospital at the moment, but we're unsure of his condition or prognosis. Jim Morita, James Falsworth, and Jaques Dernier have all passed on. According to our files, you're the one who reported James Barnes KIA, so I assume you already knew about him."

"Yes," Steve agreed, even as his mind raced. Two of his friends were still alive; that was better than he had hoped for a moment ago. "Peggy Carter? Howard Stark?" he asked after the others he assumed were young enough to possibly still be alive. Someone like Colonel Phillips would have been well over a hundred by now.

"Alpha Guide Peggy Carter is retired, but very much alive," Guide Emily assured him. "Howard Stark was killed in a car crash almost two decades ago. He has a son who you might want to meet. In fact, Carter and most of the Commandos have children and grandchildren who might like to meet you."

On the one hand, Steve wasn't sure he was ready for that, but on the other hand, part of him did want to know how his friends had gone on to live their lives, and what they had done after the war. He was curious to know what — if anything — they had said about him to their families, and if they had gone on to do the amazing things he was sure they were capable of. Although, he wasn't sure those family members — or even his old friends — would want to talk to him. Steve should have been dead decades ago, yet had somehow surpassed their loved ones without trying. Would they resent him?

"Do they know?" he asked.

"That you're alive?" Guide Emily clarified. Steve nodded. "No, for several reasons. Are you ready to hear them, or would you like a little more time to process?"

"Might as well get it all out and over with, Ma'am— er, Guide Emily," Steve corrected himself, but said the rest without hesitation. He'd rather hear it all than try to figure things out based on assumptions that could be overturned.

"Well, Agent Carter and the Howling Commandos continued their work after the war, as did Howard Stark, though in a looser fashion, as he wasn't in the military." Steve nodded: that made sense. Guide Emily continued. "Eventually, Agent Carter created and headed an American federal agency that became known as SHIELD."

"Unfortunately, their operations and even their purpose are cloaked in secrecy, even from the Sentinel and Guide Council. Very few sentinels and guides work with them for long. Eventually, in the mid 1990s, Agent Carter retired, and her replacement, Nick Fury, took over. SHIELD became even more secretive under his leadership, to the point where the S&G Council is decidedly unwelcome."

"Some time in the past week, to the best of our reckoning, SHIELD finally found the plane — and thus you — under the ice. Despite the fact that you are a known and registered sentinel, they were keeping you in a mundane office building, in a makeshift surgical suite, under heavy anti-sentinel and guide shielding."

She paused for a moment, while Steve took all that in. Her scent radiated her intentions to sooth and take care of him, and her sincere concern for his being, but a thread of irritation had swept in as she talked about the modern incarnation of SHIELD. The sentinel by the door was generally cautiously interested, but the mention of Fury had made him surge with anger. The anger wasn't quite on Steve's behalf, but it was similar, and if his senses weren't so fried from the ice, or if he wasn't being buffered so strongly, he might have picked apart a better reading.

"Clearly you found me somehow anyway," Steve said, once he finished his assessment.

"We did," and now a savage thrill of satisfaction raced through Guide Emily's scent. "At some point after your arrival — perhaps triggered by your actual arrival, or perhaps by you regaining some level of consciousness — you broadcast your distress to most of lower Manhattan, strongly enough and long enough for our best guides to get a general sense of your location. The three strongest guides in Manhattan, including the city Alpha, spent most of the day pushing their senses to narrow their search radius."

She must have seen or sensed Steve's confusion, because she paused and looked at him expectantly. "Sorry," he hadn't meant to interrupt, but she had used an unfamiliar term. "Alpha?"

"Ah, yes, you were never really a part of the civilian Sentinel and Guide scene, were you?" she asked.

"No, m— Guide Emily," Steve replied quickly. "I wasn't active, like Bucky. No one even thought I could be a guide, let alone a sentinel, until Doctor Erskine picked me out. His and Howard's experiment didn't just change my physiology, it also activated my sentinel side. He and Bucky were the only ones who saw that in me."

"That explains a lot that wasn't in our records," Guide Emily said. "Back then, we didn't have good communication with other countries' Sentinel and Guide organizations, but there's been a period of globalization in the last few decades that has seen us creating global databases. From those records, we found that Doctor Erskine was a powerful guide — possibly even a shaman."

Steve wasn't sure what that meant, but let it slide, for now.

"He clearly had a very rare ability, which allowed him to sense inactive guides or sentinels — what we would now call latent. While sensing a latent is a relatively common ability, there are some latents who you might call super-latent: a normal sentinel or guide can't sense them. You were likely a super-latent because of your medical conditions. It's something we've seen and documented since then with people who have chronic medical conditions."

"If you had onlined — activated — as a sentinel, the pain in your body would have been agony for a sentinel's extra-strong senses. In effect, your body shut away the sentinel side of you and locked it down tightly, to keep you from activating and causing yourself pain. Doctor Erskine could sense you were super-latent, and his formula fixed your body so that it would no longer be too painful to house a sentinel. Thus, you were then able to come online — activate."

"So that's what he saw in me," Steve pondered. Colonel Phillips had made it clear — even after Steve was proven to be a sentinel — that he didn't agree with whatever Doctor Erskine had seen within Steve. If it had just been his sentinel side…

"Without knowing the man, I can't say for certain, but I don't think that's all," Guide Emily startled him out of his thoughts. "He might have been able to sense that you were a super-latent sentinel, but he would have had access to dozens of latent sentinels in the draft. If he was just looking for someone with the sentinel imperative to protect the tribe, he could have had his pick. There had to have been something else he saw in you. We might speculate a bit about that later, but for now, we've gotten a little off topic."

"Since you were activated in the military and never went back to civilian life, I imagine that your only experience with what we call a sentinel and guide tribe would have been within the rigid command chain of the Army. In essence, in addition to your regular chain of command, you were also subject to the highest ranked bonded guide and sentinel above you?"

Steve nodded.

"Outside of the military, sentinels and guides form tribes — local groupings — under the auspices of a leading bonded pair. This pair are called the Alphas, and they tend to be strong both in their gifts and also in their leadership abilities. Most groups are large enough to have a second — Beta — pair who act as their assistants and backup. Somewhat like the way you'll never find a higher officer without an aide beside them. If the Alphas move, retire, die, or for some other reason, become unable to lead, the Betas will step in."

"Like when a field unit loses its commanding officer, the next highest officer or NCO steps in," Steve nodded.

"Exactly!" Guide Emily agreed. "And just like officers, sometimes that second in command is also ready to lead, but sometimes they prefer being the right hand man, rather than the top of the heap. Many Beta pairs are good helpers, but don't have the temperament to lead long term. When they take control of a tribe, they quickly work to find a new Alpha pair and step back into their former roles as the Betas. Not all Betas are waiting to become Alphas — though some are, of course."

"For example, I and my sentinel, Yulia, are the Betas of Washington DC, and we're happy to stay that way. Our former Alphas retired a while back, and were replaced by our current Alphas, while Yulia and I happily remained their Betas."

Having met more than one NCO who worked in the background to keep their unit running despite whatever commander happened to be in charge, Steve understood that kind of attitude perfectly. Some people were far more comfortable doing the work without all of the face time and glad handing that came with command. If Steve had had his preference, he would have gladly turned over the responsibility of being Captain America to someone else, and been content just being Bucky's second, like he'd always wanted.

"Forgive me if I'm being presumptuous, but I can't help but read you when I'm buffering you like this," Guide Emily spoke up.

"Please," Steve gestured at her to go ahead.

"Despite the hype surrounding Captain America, I got the sense just now that you aren't an Alpha, and wouldn't want to be."

Steve chuckled. "Got it in one. I never wanted to be in the spotlight. I just wanted to go to war with my best friend and watch his back. I'd much rather he was the one called Captain America and I could just be plain Steve."

"If that's what you want, the Sentinel and Guide Council will do their damnedest to give you that," Guide Emily promised. Steve could tell from her scent that she was telling the truth, and also slightly amused and… relieved? The sentinel at the door was definitely amused and relieved. Steve filed that away to ask about later.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Guide Emily smiled brightly again. "Now, before we got diverted into a tribal government lesson, I was telling you about the happenings this week. New York has grown quite a bit since you've lived here, and essentially the five largest boroughs each have an Alpha pair with their own tribe. However, the Manhattan Alphas are considered the city Alphas, — Alpha Pimes, we say — and the other four look to them. In addition to taking care of their own tribe, they also oversee all of the other sentinels and guides in the city."

"That makes sense," Steve said.

"From what I understand, that's the way it was back in the 1940s as well, though the lead Alphas aren't always the Manhattan duo: it depends on which borough is stronger, and which pair wants to take on the responsibility. To briefly return to our earlier example, if something happened to the Manhattan Alphas, instead of the Manhattan Betas taking over all of New York city, the next strongest borough's Alphas would hold that Prime mantle instead. In that way, they act somewhat as Betas for the city, despite being Alphas of their borough. Of course, New York is a bit of a special case, since the city has a higher population than all but the top ten largest states." Emily chuckled.

"We're a bit looser down in DC, structure-wise. But overall, in a situation like that, where an Alpha pair is promoted to a larger tribal area than just their small, immediate tribe, we call them an Alpha Prime. There are a few dozen Primes throughout America alone. Like with New York City, they are responsible for a smaller, local tribe, and a larger, regional, combined one with Alphas below them. Some of these regions are geographically small, when created around dense population centers, while others encompass several states."

"For example, the greater New England Primes live in Boston, but handle a fairly large geographic area, from Maine to the bulk of New York state. Washington DC is similar, where we are based in downtown DC, but we offer services not just to the District, but for the greater tri-state area. Philadelphia does the same for Pennsylvania, Jersey, and Delaware. Of course, in some of the larger states, like California and Texas, you'll find multiple Primes."

"And all of the Prime duos are essentially Betas for the North American Primes, Blair and Jim. They started as the Primes for the greater Seattle-Vancouver area before ascending to the Council seat when the former pair retired."

"Anyway, luckily for you, you were brought here, because Aria, the Alpha Prime Guide of New York, is especially strong at this kind of thing. Before they took over the Center, she and her Sentinel specialized in Search and Rescue. She and the next two strongest guides in her tribe spent the day honing in on you, until they had it down to about a six block radius. After that, we had a little help from your spirit animal, and he led us right to SHIELD's door."

"We broke in, told off Fury for trying to hide you from us, and carried you off. That was last night, and you've been here at the Manhattan Sentinel and Guide Center since. Aria and George — that's her sentinel — have beefed up security, and gotten help from George's office at the FBI, to keep SHIELD at bay. They might not have meant anything nefarious with the way they were holding you, but if someone deliberately tries to keep a distressed sentinel hidden from the Center, we tend to err on the side of assuming they're up to no good. Especially in your circumstance."

"Because I'm Captain America?" Steve guessed wearily.

"No, honey," Guide Emily's smile was full of amusement this time as she patted his hand. "We didn't even know it was you until we busted down the door of the lab they had you in and George just about peed his pants in excitement. Tell me, do you remember seeing any other spirit animals than your own between the crash and now?"

Steve searched back through his memory. "There was something big… with spots?" he said hesitantly. "I wasn't sure what it was, but I remember it shoving its nose under my hand. I think… I think it helped warm me up? I remember something warm and furry curled up against me, bigger than Canyon." A moment later, the large, furry, spotted animal reappeared at the foot of Steve's bed. "Oh! Yes, that was definitely you, huh?"

The sentinel snorted, but Guide Emily just crinkled her eyes with laughter as the spirit animal made itself comfortable on his feet. It was as warm and comforting as he remembered "This lady is a hyena named Shenzi. Is Canyon your bobcat, honey? We had a heckuva time trying to figure out who he belonged to, because we weren't missing any registered sentinels with a bobcat familiar. Last night, once we identified you, we looked into it, and Captain America is listed as having a bald eagle."

Steve flushed with embarrassment. "Yes, Canyon is mine. Senator Brandt made up the bald eagle thing when he made up Captain America. I didn't actually know what Canyon was — I'd never seen a bobcat before, though I knew he was too big to be a regular cat — until I was doing that stupid war bonds tour. When we were in Arizona, I saw a picture of one, and asked around. The locals told me that bobcats were all over the southwest, but tended to avoid the cities. If I really wanted to see one, I should go out and look at the Grand Canyon. I'd never seen it—"

Steve cut himself off automatically, but then decided to go all in. He trusted Guide Emily, more than he had ever trusted anyone but Bucky and Peggy. He thought having the hyena — Shenzi? They had called her? — curled up on his toes might have given him strength and courage.

"I thought, — at first, when we started the tour — I thought I'd get to see all the different parts of America. I wasn't serving my country the way that I wanted to, but I thought as a consolation prize, at least I'd get to see it. The mountains and parks and whatnot. Even the Pacific Ocean!"

"Instead, it was just airports, rides to the theater, and then backstage. Maybe a hotel room or a diner, though we tended to eat in because of the publicity. I've been to all the states but I haven't seen a one of them. When I named Canyon, it was a promise to myself and to him that we'd come back one day, and actually see the Grand Canyon, and maybe a real live bobcat."

To Steve's relief, neither Guide Emily nor the sentinel laughed at him: both smelled of sorrow, comfort, promise, and righteous indignation. "You'll see every one of those things," the sentinel growled, surprising Steve.

Guide Emily shot him a fondly annoyed glance. "It's easy for you to make that promise, but when was the last time either you or Tony took a vacation day?" she snarked.

The sentinel snorted, and Steve caught a faint flush of annoyed embarrassment in his scent: the kind that said she'd scored a bullseye and he didn't want to admit it. When Guide Emily looked back at him, she must have caught some of Steve's confusion, because she sighed and a flash of guilt shot through her scent. "I'm sorry I forgot to finish the introductions: that grouch is Sentinel LJ Gibbs. He's a retired Marine, and now a federal agent. I'm fairly certain NCIS is one of the younger agencies, so you won't have heard of them—"

"You know, I'd expect that kind of taunt from a Fibbie like Turner, but you're a civilian; you should be more impartial. Or on our side." Sentinel Gibbs complained good naturedly.

"I'm on neither side," Guide Emily teased back. "But I've heard more than enough about NCIS's little brother syndrome from Tony to make the connection, and plenty about your pissing contests with FBI Sentinel Fornell — including one that broke Tony's shoulder?" she said pointedly.

Steve didn't know who Tony was, though they'd mentioned him a few times now, but the idea of him being hurt made him ache for some reason. "Who's Tony?" he asked, drawing their attention back to him.

"Oh, as I was saying," Guide Emily continued, "Sentinel Gibbs works for NCIS — Naval Criminal Investigative Services — essentially police who specialize in crimes involving the US Navy and Marine Corps. You might have met the Army equivalent: the CID—"

"Wasn't so formal back then," Gibbs interrupted. "Unit MPs and Provost Marshall handled it all, instead of an outside organization with their own chain of command."

"Those I was familiar with," Steve agreed. He'd met the MPs under Colonel Phillips' command, and counted himself lucky that the Provost Marshall had declined to charge him with dereliction when he went off to rescue Bucky and the others. Though that might have been because Phillips didn't like to acknowledge that he was a real soldier, but Steve had gotten the distinct impression it was because he had brought so many of their men back safely.

Guide Emily gathered herself. "Right, well, nowadays the various service police? They're their own agencies: with military and federal authority. Sentinel Agent Gibbs leads the premier team at the NCIS headquarters in Washington DC, and Guide Agent Tony DiNozzo is his second in command. Like you, he's a natural Beta: good at following orders and keeping things running, but able to take charge if he has to."

"Tony belongs to this lady here," Guide Emily cooed a bit as she patted Shenzi. The hyena rumbled in a way that sounded pleased to Steve, then wiggled more firmly into his legs.

Suddenly, a long forgotten conversation with Bucky sprang to Steve's mind. From what the Center told me, it takes a lot of power for our spirit animals to show themselves to other people — except our matched mate, of course — but especially mundanes. Even though you can't see her, Stevie, my Gracie's always looking out for ya, I promise.

At the time, Steve had been focused on Bucky's spirit animal: the falcon he'd named Graceful. But now, a different part of the sentence was taking on more significance: except our matched mate, of course. "Tony's my Guide, isn't he?" Steve realized. "That's why I can see his Shenzi, and how Canyon was able to lead you to me. He's my mate."

"Yes he is, Honey," Guide Emily said simply. Both she and Sentinel Gibbs smelled wary, and the latter held a hint of protectiveness that Steve had always associated with Bucky. He had a suspicion that Gibbs and Tony were as close as he and Bucky had been.

"Where is he now?" Steve wanted to know. His spirit animal was here, so he was clearly aware of where Steve was…

"He's making himself scarce right now," Guide Emily said soothingly, her aura ratcheting up a notch as Steve's sentinel automatically bristled at the implication. "Easy, Honey. We knew you'd been through some heckuva trauma, and weren't sure where you'd be, mentally and emotionally. We weren't gonna compromise your healing by flooding your senses with bonding hormones. Have you seen what happens when a matched sentinel and guide meet for the first time?"

"Yes," Steve admitted, the memory crashing into him. He'd seen it more than once, actually, as so many soldiers were flipped active — online, as they seemed to say now — in wartime. He'd seen how they only had eyes for each other, and had raced to get to a bonding tent. He also remembered that a soldier couldn't legally be held accountable for breaking orders if he did it because of a bonding heat — as they called it — because the soldier wasn't in his right mind.

There had even been an incident when a wounded soldier sentinel was matched with his guide nurse, and they had been forced to wait until he was better healed before they could bond. Both had gone through agony, waiting, and had had to be moved to the bonding tent anyway, because he couldn't stand to see her going near other sentinels, or even mundanes, to treat their wounds.

Steve could understand why they wanted to keep Tony out of his room until they knew that he had recovered, and they had told him what year it was and whatnot. As much as Steve's sentinel side disliked being kept from his guide, his rational brain understood the reasons. However, "now that I'm awake, healed and aware of my situation…" he hinted.

"It's no longer dangerous to you for us to bring him into your presence," Guide Emily agreed, though her scent disagreed.

"But…?" Steve pressed.

"But there are a few more things we need to brief you on," Sentinel Gibbs said. "Like Fury." The name triggered another rush of disgust and annoyance in both of them, just like before. Steve tried not to judge people he didn't know, but it was hard not to when the man was so clearly disliked by other Sentinels and Guides. Still, Fury had known Peggy — at least that's what Guide Emily had implied — and Steve wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt for her sake.

"So hit me with it," he said, preparing himself as best as he could for whatever else they thought he needed to hear.

"Well, first of all, Howard Stark searched for you for years, and no one knows why he couldn't find you. By the same token, we don't know how Fury was able to finally do it. We don't know why he was shielding you so heavily from our people: though that might in part be due to his general paranoia of guides and sentinels, it's never been this extreme before."

"Being the one to recover Captain America could be quite the feather in his cap, but from what little we could read from him last night, showing you off isn't his intention. We aren't sure what his intentions actually are, but they're more secretive than that. And that gave every guide involved the heebie jeebies. Sentinels might have an imperative to protect guides, but guides have a less well publicized imperative to protect sentinels. None of us liked the sense we got of Fury's plans for you."

Steve absorbed that while Guide Emily took a few calming breaths. While Steve's first inclination was to trust federal agents, Fury wasn't the only one of those involved in this. And Steve was not unfamiliar with the world of spies and double agents: they were a part of war.

Even just people with hidden agendas, like Senator Brant and Colonel Phillips, were similar in a way. People who wanted to use Captain America — who didn't give a damn about Steve Rogers — weren't exactly a new phenomenon to him. Even people like Howard and Peggy had had their own priorities. Which wasn't to say that Steve didn't trust them: they were just human, that's all.

Could Steve imagine that this Fury had an ulterior motive for searching for Captain America? Of course. Could Steve believe the Sentinels and Guides he was meeting that they had his best interests at heart? his sentinel side was screaming at him to. What's more, they seemed to know and be working with his guide. If Steve couldn't trust that his own guide had his best interests at heart, then what was the point of anything?

"So what do we do?" he asked.

Chapter Text

"So what do we do?" he asked.

"Well, that depends a lot on you, and a little on Tony," Guide Emily said with a warm, reassuring smile. "The big thing is that, for all intents and purposes, Captain America is dead. Oh, he's technically listed as Missing in Action, and for many years everyone held out hope, but eventually even Howard Stark gave up. What notes we were able to access say that he found some kind of clue shortly after the war ended, but when that didn't lead him to you… it took several decades, but finally even he said that he didn't think you could have survived."

Guide Emily was radiating her sympathy, but Steve didn't need it as much as he thought. He couldn't blame Howard or the others: he'd seen Bucky fall off of that train, and assumed he was dead. The others had searched for Steve for far longer than he deserved before giving up hope. "So what you're saying is that, as far as the public is concerned, I'm already dead," Steve summarized.

"Yes, but it's more factual to say that Captain America is dead. Captain Steve Rogers is actually listed as MIA separately from Captain America for some reason," Guide Emily wrinkled her nose in confusion. "We suspect it might have been either a clerical error, or something done by your friends to honor you, separately from your stage persona. Either way, it gave us an idea, depending on what you want to do. Do you want to come back as Captain America, or as Captain Steve Rogers?"

"I'm not sure I understand the difference," Steve said hesitantly.

"Well, if we report that Captain America — the Super Sentinel hero of World War II — was recovered, you'd be a national icon. Your face would be plastered all over the news — and nowadays, that's more than just the daily paper and the newsreels in front of movies.

Now, everyone has a television in their home that functions like a smaller movie screen, and different channels — like radio channels — run the news several times a day. Telephones have also become compact, wireless, and can fit in your pocket. Mine can also give me news within minutes of it happening," Guide Emily pulled a small, square device out of her pocket to illustrate.

Steve was having trouble grasping all that, but they were both radiating honesty in their scents. "So you're saying that, if you announced that Captain America was found alive, my picture would be in the pocket of every person in America?"

"Just about," Guide Emily agreed. "Although, within a day it would be in the pocket of most of the people on the planet."

Steve blinked hard. That would take a moment to digest. At his feet, Tony's hyena snuggled closer and gave his shin a comforting little lick. "Okay…"

"You'd instantly be a celebrity," Guide Emily continued. "Take the ten biggest movie stars from your time, mix in the ten biggest industrialists like Rockafeller and Stark, add in the President of the United States, and famous military people like General Patton and Admiral Nimitz. Roll all of them into one and you'd come close to describing the effect of Captain America."

"Holy hell," Steve breathed out.

"In modern times, celebrities like that have no privacy. Everyone's phone doesn't just have the news built in, but also a camera and a film camera. Those crowds you would see at the theaters where you performed? It would be just like that for you again, but this time when you were just trying to check your mail or get groceries."

"And that's just the general public." Sentinel Gibbs butted in. "You'd be a symbol of American hope, and people who wanted to tarnish that symbol would come after you. Most sentinels get a taste of that sooner or later. Some punk thinks that the quickest way to prove how strong and stupid he is is to take down a sentinel."

"Now picture that on a national level. Criminals would come after you just because you represent a country they hate. Others would try to catch you making a mistake so that they could use it as proof of America's weakness or stupidity. You'd have a target on your back as bright as that shield of yours. And for those who know what they're doing, so would your guide."

Steve felt sick to his stomach, and that was before Sentinel Gibbs had mentioned the threat to Tony. Steve already had a vague idea of what he was talking about: that had literally been the point of his stage show, after all. Steve, representing America, would punch Hitler, representing all of their enemies. He could easily imagine someone from one of their current enemies — and he would need to get a list, it sounded like — thinking that taking a swing at Steve would create the same kind of fervor for their cause that Steve had created for America's. "I understand."

"We're not telling you this to scare you," Guide Emily said right away. "We're trying to be completely open and honest with you. A lot has changed in the last six decades, and you're at a disadvantage until you get caught up to speed. If we were to announce tomorrow that Captain America had been recovered, you wouldn't get that time. But, if you want to go that route, the Sentinel and Guide Council will support you to the best of our abilities. We just think you should know what all of your options are; something we don't think Fury was going to tell you."

"So what are my options?" Steve asked wearily.

"Other than coming out as the Captain tomorrow, we see two viable ones: both of which would give you time to lie low and get your bearings. Both start with you coming back — not as Captain America — but as Captain Steve Rogers. Rogers would be a retired Army Captain, a veteran, and a Sentinel, but otherwise a normal person. He wouldn't be a celebrity. He wouldn't be hounded by fans or enemies. He could actually keep his enlistment if he wanted to stay in the Army, but he could also look for another career."

"Maybe he would join his Guide in their field, or maybe he would do something else. Maybe he would travel around America and see the sights in every state. He could reconnect with his old friends, and meet the family of others. He could make new friends. He could still serve his community as a Sentinel, but he wouldn't be put on a pedestal."

"That sounds like it's too good to be true," Steve admitted.

"Life's never perfect," Sentinel Gibbs pointed out. "Shit'll go FUBAR, and you'll have to rely on your wits and your strength and whatever's at hand to fix things. You might walk into a bank while it's getting robbed, or get a visit from the family of one of the cons that Tony's put away, looking for revenge. Might find yourself in the middle of a war again. But the whole world wouldn't be watching, rooting for you to fail."

Steve took a deep breath and accepted that. For some reason, Sentinel Gibbs's assurance that it wouldn't be a perfectly happy ending was comforting. "What's the second option?"

"Basically the same as the first," Guide Emily said with a light chuckle. "Except in a year or so, once you've caught up to our time and acclimated to all the changes, you decide to come out as Captain America. We make the announcement that you were found, and spent a year recovering, and are now back. You'd still be a celebrity, still be a target for our enemies, and a symbol of hope, but you'd be prepared."

"In fact, that's likely to happen at some point anyway. Whether it's in a year, or five years, or five months, someone will recognize that you're Captain America. Or someone involved with recovering you from the ice will talk. The world will find out. The question is: will you be prepared when it happens? And: how will you handle it?"

"It sounds like if I take option two, living as Rogers, I can choose to come out as Captain America at any time — or will be found out anyway —" Steve said, working through it. "But if I come out as Captain America, I can never go back to being just Steve Rogers."

"That's basically it in a nutshell," Guide Emily agreed. "The sentinels and guides will support you no matter what — you're one of us — but the choice is up to you."

Sentinel Gibbs's scent was suddenly shot through with a spike of irritation, and after a moment Steve realized why. "You mean, the choice is up to me and Tony. If we bond, and I come out as Captain America, he'll get dragged into the mess of being a celebrity and a target with me."

"That's true," Guide Emily admitted, while Sentinel Gibbs flashed relief and pride. "But Tony has stated categorically that he doesn't want to make any choices for you. That's why he's stayed away from you. You have another, unrelated choice: whether or not to bond. If you chose not to bond with him, then it's better for you not to imprint your senses on him. And, if you choose not to bond, then he wouldn't be dragged into your Captain America mess — as you put it."

Everything within Steve recoiled at the idea of not bonding with Tony. He hadn't felt the longing for a guide that other sentinels described: Bucky had said it was like wanting a hot dame and craving your favorite food, ratcheted up to twenty. Despite that, and even though they'd never met, Steve wanted Tony. "No! I want— I need— I don't not want him." Steve stammered.

Sentinel Gibbs and Guide Emily were both shot through with that mixture of relief and pride again. Steve could tell they were both close to Tony, and though they were giving him relatively objective information, they held out hope for their friend. He had also noticed their careful wording when they told him that he could leave the relationship without imprinting on Tony. Steve had a suspicion that Tony had already partially imprinted on him.

"Is it safe for us to meet, yet?" he asked impatiently. Steve didn't like the idea that Tony was already starting to bond with him, and was hurting himself by keeping his distance, just to give Steve a choice.

"It is, as long as that's what you want, honey," Guide Emily said. "Though we need to take care of a few things first. The doctor wants to give you a thorough check up, now that you're caught up on the basics. Once you and Tony start to bond, you're going to be out of contact for a few days, up to a week. He'll be able to begin catching you up on the world in that time, but we'll need some directives of what you want in the meantime."

"Directives?"

"For example, do you want to come back as Captain America? If so, we'd need to start working on the press release to give to the news, and we'd want to take a current picture of you to show off. If you just want to be Steve Rogers, then we need to know that. We can start discretely reaching out to your old friends for you, if you'd like. The team has also been working on a few scenarios for Agent Fury: if he contacts the center, would you like to leave a message for him? That kind of thing. We'll check in and see what they've come up with while we've been chatting."

That all made sense to Steve, and he didn't even object to any of it, but now that he had made up his mind, he was getting impatient to see Tony. "I don't want to be Captain America: at least, not yet," he decided. "Yes, it would be great to see my old friends and their families once I've bonded. No specific message for Fury, other than a thank you, and any questions you want to ask him about how he found me and what he intended to do with me. The doctor sounds fine, but can we combine it with the rest and get a move on?"

Guide Emily chuckled. "Oh, in some ways you sentinels are all alike!" she declared. "I'll get the doctor while Sentinel Gibbs fetches the others."

With that, she rose and followed Sentinel Gibbs out the door, leaving Steve alone for the moment with Tony's hyena. They were only alone for a minute, however, before a doctor, who Steve quickly identified as a guide, entered the room. He began examining Steve, who patiently played along.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, Guide Emily, Sentinel Gibbs, and four more people entered the room. The lone woman amongst the newcomers was black with deep red hair, and she radiated the same soothing guide aura as Emily. As did another man, with tanned skin and curly brown hair. However, he also sent out a vibe that made Steve want to stand and salute. As did the older of the two sentinels.

"Why—" Steve cut himself off, unsure how to voice his question.

Fortunately the Sentinel smirked. "You're feeling your Sentinel side's reaction to us, Captain Rogers. I'm Jim Ellison. I retired from the Army Rangers as a Captain, though now I'm a police officer. Blair and I are the Alpha Primes of North America. In other words, every Sentinel and Guide in the country falls under our jurisdiction, and are part of our expanded tribe. Military folk often salute us, because they feel our rank in a very visceral way."

"Yesir," Steve said, saluting him properly. Sentinel Ellison returned it, letting him relax. The itch to show his submission quickly faded.

"Our other newcomers are the New York Alpha Primes I was telling you about," Guide Emily said. "Sentinel George and Guide Aria Turner," she indicated the black woman and the blond man who also had a military bearing. Steve shifted a little awkwardly. He didn't feel the need to salute this couple, but if they were the head of the New York tribe, he thought he probably should.

"Don't worry about it," the Sentinel — George — piped up. "The submissive imperative isn't as strong with the lower level Alphas, unless we're concentrating our will on you. And, though you're from New York, your most recent tribal experience was in the military: it usually takes a little while to adjust to a new tribe when you move territories, or join or leave the Service. It's also possible that you'd feel a stronger connection to your hometown borough than to the city as a whole, which is fairly common with native New Yorkers."

"It might also be 'cause you're a flyboy," Sentinel Gibbs snarked.

Sentinel George rolled his eyes, his scent annoyed but not upset. "I swear, the Air Force gets no respect. I'm Lieutenant Turner, Captain Rogers, though mostly I go by FBI Special Agent Turner or Alpha Sentinel Turner, nowadays. You can just call me George, if you like: most do."

"Alpha Sentinel," Steve nodded respectfully at him. He had never been part of a civilian sentinel community, and of course, war tended to pull soldiers active. He wondered if it was common to find so many military and law enforcement backgrounds, or if this group was special. He also wondered if Tony had a military background, before becoming a special agent.

"Well, let's get down to it," The Alpha Prime Guide said, sitting down in the empty chair by Steve's bed. "Jim and I have been talking with the leaders in New York and Washington DC, as well as Tony. If you chose to bond, which it sounds like you intend to—"

Steve nodded emphatically.

"— then you've got three major choices. The first is to remain here in New York. There are several benefits, not the least of which is you wouldn't have to travel anywhere. You would also be in your own hometown, so to speak. Another important factor is that you would be in Director Fury's backyard. In some ways, that could be a negative — he might still attempt to get you back under his control."

"In other ways, it could be a positive. If you're close by, Fury might think that we aren't trying to hide you, and assume that he can still get the upper hand. He might choose to back off, and wait to make his play. He might also get the impression that your Guide is local, and look for them in the wrong places. "

"I see," Steve said, mulling over the different scenarios.

"Now, the second option is that we would take you back to Washington DC, where Tony and Gibbs live. There's a distinct disadvantage in that you'd be driving and also riding in our private jet with Tony for a few hours without being able to start your bond. Once you see him, your territorial nature will kick into overdrive, so any unbonded sentinel around, like Gibbs, is liable to freak you out, even though they're like family to each other and Gibbs won't be trying to poach him."

"There has to be some kind of advantage, or you wouldn't suggest putting us through that," Steve guessed.

"There are: first, it gets you further away from Fury, and any of his local minions. SHIELD has a base of operations in Washington, so it isn't the best place to hide you, but it would give us a little breathing room. There's also the fact that, when we were getting you out of his clutches, we did a good bit of bluffing, part of which was not identifying Tony as your Guide. Fury might make an educated guess, but us taking you back to DC might muddy those waters a bit. He would assume that we wouldn't subject you two to the travel if you were both here in New York, and guess that Tony was merely representing your actual guide, whom we would then be bringing you to meet."

"That sounds really complicated," Steve said wryly.

"Oh, when dealing with Spooks, you've got to think in layers upon layers," Alpha Sentinel George said wearily. "Fury was CIA before he joined SHIELD."

Clearly seeing or feeling Steve's bafflement, Alpha Sentinel George's guide elbowed him. "The CIA was founded after the war, sweetling," she told Steve. "Think FBI but with spies and espionage. They've earned the nickname 'spooks' because they pride themselves on vanishing like ghosts. Other Federal Agents tend to dislike them because they work in so many layers and levels that sometimes they do something counterintuitive or immoral to serve some other, later, purpose. They have a hard time holding onto sentinels and especially guides because of it. SHIELD under Director Fury has developed a similar problem."

"Got it," Steve nodded. He also felt marginally better: Guide Emily had told him that Peggy and Howard had started SHIELD, and he hadn't liked to think of their organization as having been so corrupt. If that had mostly come in with Fury, as a byproduct of his time in the CIA, he could feel better about the motives of his former friends.

"The third option is the more immediately painful, but most likely to throw off Fury," Alpha Prime Ellison continued. "We'd take you on our jet and drop you off somewhere else — not DC. You'd have the same problems of being stuck with Tony and unable to bond immediately, but it would further obscure the identity of your guide. Once he figured out that Tony was your match, and that we had deliberately obfuscated your trail, it would tell Fury that we didn't trust him, and put spiteing him above your and Tony's discomfort. That plan would keep him guessing for as long as we could hide your and Tony's status, but immediately show our hands once that's revealed."

"How long do you think you could keep our identities a secret from him?" Steve asked.

"If Tony went back to work like everything was normal in a week or so? Some might guess he was on bonding leave. If you went to work with him, or were seen by Fury's spies in his neighborhood? We'd have a month if we were lucky. If Tony went back to work for a few days, and then was called out on a supposed secret assignment, while he and you disappeared and roamed the country together? If we could come up with a very good cover story for his absence, it could buy us several months."

"If you were both willing to delay your bonding slightly," Guide Emily spoke up, "then there's another, similar, option. When we stole you from Fury, Tony made up a lot of BS about how the Army and the Sentinel and Guide Council needed to clear you before he could get his mitts on you. In that scenario, Tony, Gibbs, my sentinel, and I would return to DC, under the guise that we had just been assisting our New York brethren."

"Tony would go back to work, and everything about him would appear normal. Meanwhile, you would be taken care of by Blair and Jim, here, as they got you acclimated to this time and handled all the legal minutia. Then, in a month or two, once Fury's decided Tony is clean, and we've laid some false trail that puts you elsewhere, he takes that openly secret assignment, or quits, or whatever, and we sneak the two of you off to meet up in Arizona or somewhere," she concluded.

"I'm not sure," Steve finally admitted. "I'm not used to this kind of convoluted reasoning. I want to pick the option that is best for Tony and I, but I'm just not sure what that is."

The others exchanged glances, and it gave Steve an idea. Turning to Sentinel Gibbs, he said, "You know Tony the best, right? They said you were family?"

"Myself or the shamans, yeah," Sentinel Gibbs agreed, again using that word that Steve wasn't familiar with. "We may not be blood, but I've got his back, no matter what."

Guide Emily snorted. "You know he just turned bright red from where he's listening in, don't you?" she teased.

"Oh, his embarrassed but pleased squirm! I know that one!" Alpha Prime Guide Blair chimed in.

His sentinel snorted with laughter. "He wants it known that he hates you all right now."

"You can hear him?" Steve asked, distracted from his questioning.

Alpha Prime Sentinel Jim nodded. "We've got heavy shielding on these rooms, and the same on the one he's in, but one of the perks of being the Prime is more advanced senses than your average sentinel. Tony's using the Center's surveillance to keep up," he jerked a thumb at the corner, where Steve saw a small bubble attached to the ceiling. He assumed that was a modern kind of surveillance device.

The idea that Tony was watching, maybe even listening to him, made Steve even more determined to make the right choice for both of them. He turned back to Sentinel Gibbs. "What choice would he want to make?" Steve asked.

Sentinel Gibbs propped his chin in his hand, while Guide Emily crossed her arms and tilted her gaze up. "If you want to keep your options open, instead of declaring yourself as Captain America right away…" he began.

Steve nodded sharply.

"… Then he'd probably pick the option where you two stay here and bond right away. If he and I could come up with a reason to stay — maybe some kind of administrative position for the DC Center on paper — we could leave our options open for bringing you to DC at the end of the week." Sentinel Gibbs concluded.

"Tony's been listed as a Shaman on our records since the— for the last few years," Steve wasn't sure what Guide Emily was avoiding saying, but he made a mental note to ask later. "It would only take Jae a minute to make that some kind of official position in the computer…"

"It would explain you coming here instead of the Greenes as well," Alpha Sentinel George agreed. "If DC sent both of their Shamans to help us… we could have one of the FBI geeks backdate an email of us contacting you and Blair about the disturbance we felt, instead of the other way around. With you two being the closest Shamans…"

"We'd need a reason for them to have gone to DC first — maybe an existing meeting," his Guide agreed.

"Hang on," Alpha Prime Sentinel Jim held up his hand. His head was cocked slightly to the side, and Steve recognized the classic listening pose. "Tony's got a suggestion. Everyone's familiar with the concept of interim guides for sentinels, but we could easily include in his file the idea of an interim sentinel for shamans. Since he's literally the only shaman to ever beat his sentinel online — sort of — no one could say he didn't need or have one. If Gibbs was listed as his interim sentinel in his Center files, then when Fury hacks in, he'll have an explanation for both of their presences."

"That makes a shocking amount of sense," Alpha Sentinel George said, stunned.

"That's Tony's forte," Sentinel Gibbs smirked. "Coming up with the shockingly obvious idea that everyone else should have seen."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult," Alpha Sentinel George tossed back.

"Neither is Tony," Alpha Prime Sentinel Jim smirked.

Sentinel Gibbs turned to look at the surveillance device. "Good use of rule seven," he said, clearly referencing some code that only he and Tony knew.

"Okay, so we do a little paperwork fiction to explain Gibbs's and Tony's partnership, and a bit more to explain New York calling on the Shamans to help them track down Steve here," Guide Emily said. "Tony and Steve take the week to bond, and we put forth another paperwork fiction that we shamans are helping to heal him or some such. It's not entirely untrue, as Tony will be helping Steve by bonding with him."

"We could also bring in the local army representative to uphold what Tony told Fury — we'd need them to take care of the paperwork to get Steve registered properly anyway. Then, at the end of the week, we see what move Fury has made, and reweigh our options?"

There were nods all around, and it all made sense to Steve. Plus, it meant that he wouldn't have to put off bonding with Tony, which suited him fine.

"In the meantime, if Fury asks…" Alpha Guide Aria asked leadingly.

"Rogers is being treated for his ordeal, in consultation with both the Army and the Sentinel and Guide Council. No decisions have been made, but he appreciates the respect for his privacy at this time, and is looking forward to seeing his old friends and his guide." Alpha Prime Guide Blair rattled off smoothly, as though he was a professional radio announcer.

Steve found himself gaping at the man; he hadn't said anything untrue, and Steve's senses told him that Blair wasn't lying, but he hadn't revealed that Tony was Steve's guide or that he didn't want to be Captain America anymore. "Wow," he murmured.

"And that's why he gives all the press conferences," his sentinel joked. "Tony says that while we were talking he called in a favor back home who already had his files updated, including the email from New York asking the shamans for help. His guide friend — who apparently you folks know as a technical goddess? — said that only a handful of people in the country could even tell that something had been edited."

"She's also setting up some kind of tricky hacker trap — his words — on the Center's server. It will make it slightly easier for someone to access Tony's and Gibbs's files, but then kick them out and slam the door before they have long enough to look for her fingerprints. She'll get an alarm when it happens, and she'll let us know as soon as it does. She's offered to do anything else we need as this case progresses."

The group from Washington nodded and made noises of agreement: clearly they understood who and what Tony was referencing, though it had all gone over Steve's head.

"She also apparently made Tony swear to pass on her promise to digitally ruin Gibbs if he screwed this up for Tony…"

Sentinel Gibbs smirked, and several of the others chuckled. Steve didn't get the joke, but it was clear that they did. He figured Tony could explain it to him later.

"Well, with that taken care of, should we escort them to the bonding suite?" Guide Emily asked with a knowing smile.

"I suppose we should," Alpha Sentinel George smirked back.

Steve accepted the ribbing with good grace. He couldn't bring himself to be upset about anything at the moment: not when he was about to finally meet Tony. In Steve's confused timeline, just a few days ago he would have said that Bucky was the most important person in his life, with their families and Peggy coming in second, followed by the Howling Commandos.

Then Bucky had died, and Steve had gone into the ice. Now, — just days later to him — Peggy and his other friends were dead or grandparents. And Steve hadn't even seen Tony yet, but he already couldn't imagine his life without him.

"Come with me, sweetling," Alpha Guide Aria said, beckoning to Steve. "I set aside a bonding suite for you two, just in case. While we walk, you tell me what kind of food you like, so we'll know what to deliver to you. Everything we've got is sentinel-safe, obviously, without harsh spices, but everyone's different. And of course, we take personal preferences into account…"

Chapter Text

Tony anxiously paced back and forth in the bonding suite. Once the confab with everyone had ended, and Aria had started to usher Steve away, Tony had closed his laptop, shutting down the security tap they'd hooked up for him so he could watch the medical isolation room.

For the most part, while Steve recovered, Tony had busied himself with the others, making plans and running scenarios, and desperately trying to avoid replaying his few memories of Steve. The literature — and Tony had consumed everything even remotely related to sentinels and guides in the last few years — all talked about what happened to Sentinels who saw their Guides before they were ready to bond, but no one talked about how hard it was on the Guide in that situation! It took most of Tony's willpower not to march himself down to the iso ward every few minutes.

When they'd finally developed some plans, and gotten the word that Steve was ready to hear them, Tony had moved to the bonding suite with his gear. There was a small chance that Steve would choose not to bond here, in which case he was getting a little ahead of himself, but if Steve chose to leave, it would help to have Tony's scent and heartbeat muted by the heavy shielding of the bonding suites. Watching the video feed was a sweet kind of torture, as Tony glutted himself on the sight and sound of his Sentinel. He might not be able to imprint that way, but he was sure doing his best to memorize every bit of Steve.

Of course, now that Steve was actually on his way, Tony was second guessing everything. Steve was — as George had so aptly put it — Captain Fucking America! What the hell could he want with Tony? A guide who came out as a shaman out of order, and couldn't even bring himself online. Someone who's lungs were still scarred from the plague, an agent who couldn't even go undercover to do his job.

Fortunately, Tony's spiraling thoughts were quickly interrupted by the outer door of the bonding suite opening. There was a pause, as the negative pressure system did it's thing, and then suddenly the inner door was opening. Tony had frozen, mid-pace, when he heard the first door, so he was caught in the act, halfway between the table and the door to the bathroom. "Er, hi," he offered, giving an awkward little wave.

Steve had frozen as well, still in the antechamber, and Tony belatedly realized that he was probably being hit with several sensory impressions at once. His whispered "Guide," was barely audible. Finally, Steve shook himself, and strode forward, until he was about six feet away, close to the foot of the bed. "So you're the one who sent the lovely Shenzi to keep me company," he said with a bashful smile.

"It would be more accurate to say that she sent herself," Tony joked. "I was too busy trying to get your Canyon to stop hiding under my bed." The aforementioned animals both popped into the room, sitting side by side on their haunches near the doorway and eyeing the two men.

When Steve saw his own spirit animal, he blanched, and Tony understood why. "I don't know what they taught back in the day, but your spirit animal is a direct representation of both your physical and emotional state," Tony explained. "Right now, you're physically all healed up, but a few days ago, you really weren't, and I'd wager that your mental state in Fury's clutches wasn't too hot. Believe me when I say that Canyon's looking worlds better than he was when I first met him."

It wasn't a hollow assurance, either. While still a little on the gaunt side, and with a tendency to hide behind the larger hyena, Canyon no longer looked like he had mange, and you couldn't easily count his ribs anymore. He — and Steve — clearly still needed a little time, but Tony no longer felt a rush of panic at the distress the bobcat radiated.

"I'm sorry about that," Steve began, and Tony quickly held up a hand to stop him.

"I don't blame you at all. I blame Fury for his rough handling of you, that Schmidt guy for trying to blow up New York, and while we're at it pretty much every Nazi ever, for starting the damn war in the first place." Tony smirked. "I don't blame you for doing what you had to to protect the tribe, even if the idea of you being hurt as a result isn't great. And I certainly don't blame Canyon for his condition — I imagine that the first few times that Blair and the others saw Shenzi she wasn't looking too great either."

"I am glad that Canyon found me, and that Shenzi kept you safe long enough for him to lead me to you." Tony wasn't used to sharing his feelings like this, and he usually tried hard not to think about the fact that his emotions had been an open book to Blair and Emily before he got his preliminary shielding in place.

Steve seemed to be thinking, and Tony had no doubt he was filing away several questions for later. Finally, he seemed to pick one. "They gave me a lot of choices back there, but I never heard you getting one. Is this actually what you want? Bonding? A sentinel? Me? I'm just a kid from Brooklyn—"

"And I'm just a kid from Long Island," Tony halted his demur with a smile. Maybe later we can argue over whose hometown is better," he teased. "I wasn't listening the whole time, but I'm guessing that Emily and Gibbs didn't tell you a lot about me?"

Steve shook his head.

"Well, I'll share all the gritty details once we have time to get into it, but suffice to say that I'm very glad that I've found my sentinel, and while I wasn't exactly in a rush to bond beforehand — I never really understood the hormone side of it before — but now I get why guides say they can't imagine not wanting to bond once they've found their sentinel. I'm in no way ambivalent about bonding with you."

Tony took a deep breath. "As for the fact that my sentinel is Steve Rogers… sure, that's a bit unexpected, but you're in no way a disappointment in the looks department, and I'm looking forward to getting to know the rest of you. As for the fact that you're also known as Captain America… that I am a bit more ambivalent about, with a heaping side dose of 'holy shit! I'm not worthy!'"

At that, Steve snorted. "Neither am I."

Tony grinned. "Let me put it this way, at the risk of completely derailing the day's plans: were you aware of the mafia in your neighborhood? I know you grew up during prohibition, and might have been peripherally aware of them because of that, and the resultant squabbling for position after its repeal?" Steve nodded, frowning.

Tony hadn't actually gone undercover in over a year, but he still kept his skills sharp by playing around with his personas every so often. He couldn't fully get into the mindset at the moment, but he could certainly drop into the physicality and the vocal patterns of his DeMarco guise.

Letting the Long Island accent color his voice heavily, he continued as DeMarco, "Well, the mafia is still a thing, and back when I was a police officer, I went undercover with them. If you can handle the fact that I can change into a deadly, dangerous, mafioso prince in the blink of an eye, then I can handle the fact that you sometimes put on a skin-tight outfit and pranced around on a stage punching fake-Hitler," Tony had transformed back to himself in the last few words, and he finished off with a smirk.

Steve blinked once, twice, and then a matching smirk slowly spread across his face. "Okay, I'm going to want more details on that, but I take your point. That was like watching the Star Spangled girls drop their stage smiles the second they hit the curtains."

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you compared me to a girl, and instead file away the information that you're basically a high school music theater nerd," Tony decided loftily.

Shenzi made a pointed noise — probably because of Tony's own nerd tendencies, which he fully intended to share… eventually. Glancing at her and Canyon, both patiently waiting on them, brought Tony back to where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. A frisson of nerves shot through him, and Tony ruthlessly suppressed them.

"Not that I don't want to learn everything about you in the near future, but we're all alone in this nice fancy bonding suite…" he said leadlingly.

Steve's smirk faltered for a moment, and Tony got a hit of his own nerves. Oddly, it made him feel better, knowing that he wasn't the only nervous one. Tony had started and capitalized on enough rumors for his undercover work to know that Steve couldn't possibly live up to the Captain America hype, but it was hard not to fall for it all the same. Even putting that aside, Steve was a war hero who had single-handedly liberated an entire division, and had sacrificed himself to save all of New York. Even without the hype, those were some pretty awe-inspiring things to put on your resume.

"I'll admit, I wasn't the most familiar with civilian bonding arrangements before I basically traveled forward in time…" Steve hinted.

Tony refrained from smacking himself in the forehead, but he was sure that the action was conveyed to Steve in his scent anyway. "Basically, this suite is ours for as long as we need it. No one will come inside the inner doors except in an extreme emergency, and pretty much only food and clothes will be dropped in the antechamber."

"I actually turned over the clothes in my go bag already, because even though they were clean, they'll smell like Abby, and the DC Center, and the plane and everything. So those will be laundered and dropped back off at some point. I think they already put scrubs in your size in here, but they might clean and bring us the suit you were wearing when we liberated you."

Realizing he was going off on a tangent, Tony refocused. "There's a full bathroom through the other door, with a shower and a sinfully big tub with all kinds of jets and things. Plus the bedroom here. There isn't a TV or anything, but we'll have my laptop and tablet to start catching you up on the modern world. That'll probably come after the bonding, though." Tony did his best not to blush.

"It's my first time as well, obviously, but usually, as I understand it, we'd both scrub off all the outside smells and things on us and then just… get to it. I showered this morning, and I know the docs gave you some kind of sponge bath last night, but I assume that isn't enough for a sentinel-strength nose."

Steve nodded, though Tony could feel his curiosity. "When you say jets…"

Tony grinned. "Oh man, this is a modern innovation you're gonna love! Come on," he beckoned Steve to follow him, and turned towards the bathroom. "I asked once, cause I'm curious like that, and unless you're super touch sensitive and can't dial it down, even sentinels love a whirlpool tub. Well, except Gibbs, but I think he just likes being grumpy, and indulging in a better tub would mellow him out too much for him to keep up the ruse."

He felt the briefest spike of territoriality from Steve at the mention of Gibbs, and Tony resolved to both clarify how not into Gibbs he was, and also refrain from mentioning him overly much until their bond was there to assure Steve that Tony was his. He also started making plans. Steve might be the sentinel, and the one who would map Tony's body to create his sensory imprint, but nothing said that Tony couldn't do a little mapping of his own. And he couldn't imagine anyone going through what Steve just had and not needing a deep massage at the end. Luckily for Steve, Tony had learned about more than just sports with his kinesiology degree.

Steve easily conceded that Tony was right — a whirlpool tub was some pretty fantastic technology. What was even more fantastic was what Tony could do with his hands. Steve had been seen by a Masseur when he was a child, on his doctor's recommendation. That form of rubbing therapy had done nothing for his various ailments, and was too expensive to do regularly, so he'd only gone a few times. It was also as far removed from what Tony was doing as an army bonding tent was from this luxurious suite.

After they both scrubbed themselves in the shower — and Tony was right, in that Steve could smell all kinds of things on both of them that he struggled to classify — Tony had filled up the huge tub and dragged Steve into it. The hot water on it's own felt good, and the pulsing jets on his back and legs eased tension he had been carrying since before he went into the ice.

Steve's senses were busy soaking up Tony, and part of him was pushing him to grab Tony and claim him now. Steve suppressed that impulse with his iron willpower; the desire to bond immediately wasn't worse than the pain of Doctor Erskine's machine, and he'd lived through that, so he could live through this.

The rest of Steve just enjoyed the moment. Tony was handsome, and as well built as most soldiers Steve had seen. His unique smell, as it emerged from the cacophony, was a mix of familiar cooking spices from Steve's childhood neighborhood, a sharp smell that made him think of the army motor pool, and an unfamiliar scent that reminded him of Doctor Erskine for some reason. Not that either of them smelled remotely alike, but when Steve closed his eyes and tried to place the smell, Doctor Erskine's lab was the first thing he pictured.

Better than his smell was Tony's voice. He had a storyteller's voice, as Bucky's Ma would say. His tone shifted high and low, depending on what he was talking about, and he had a way of imitating people's accents, cadence, and tone that made his stories come to life. Steve thought he could listen to Tony talk forever.

While they had been standing in the main room, talking, Steve had decided that Tony's voice was his best feature, with his smile coming in a close second. When Tony pulled him into the large tub and began to run his hands over Steve, they jumped to the top of the list. Steve always heard that sentinels imprinted touch by running their hands over their guide, but right now he was content to memorize Tony's hands by the way that they ran over him.

At first, Tony had sat practically in Steve's lap, with his broad back pressed against Steve's chest, and tugged his arms up one at a time. He pressed and pulled, tugging, kneading, and rubbing, until all the tension had faded from Steve's hand and he let his arm drift limply in the water. Then Tony had done the same to the other side.

Just when Steve thought he couldn't wait to break the final sense barrier and kiss Tony, he abruptly stood and held out his hand. Tugging Steve to his feet, Tony drained and shut down the tub, and then herded Steve into the bedroom.

Instead of cuddling up on the bed with him, however, Tony gently pushed Steve down onto his stomach and then straddled his upper thighs. Before Steve could voice a protest, Tony's amazing hands were on his shoulders, digging into the muscles there with pressure that hurt for a moment, before transforming into a wave of pleasure and relaxation.

Steve groaned, and Tony chuckled low in his throat, making him want to groan for a different reason. "One of the things we've improved in sixty years is the art of massage," Tony said, laughter still playing in his voice. "I took a whole class on massage and body manipulation in college. It's kind of funny that massage started as a medical treatment, then expanded to be used for relaxation as well."

If he'd been able to talk, Steve would have said that 'funny' wasn't the word for it — 'amazing' fit far better — but he felt too good to try. Tony's hands moved up and down his back, working their magic, and for a brief moment Steve actually wondered if the modern world had found actual magic, like his Ma believed in. He lost track of time, drowning in the smell and feel and sound of his guide, sinking into a blissful haze. Steve had never felt so good in his life.

Finally, he was brought back to the moment by a rush of air and movement, and then Tony was filling his vision, lying on the bed beside him. "I don't know if I should be proud that I've reduced you to a sentinel-shaped puddle of goo, or upset that you don't want to rip my non-existent clothes off like they do in the movies," he teased.

There was only one way for Steve to respond to that, and he threw off his comfortable lethargy to lunge at his guide. Pinning Tony to the bed, he looked down into his smirking face and saw trust, love, and need reflected back at him. "Sentinel," Tony whispered.

"Guide," Steve whispered back, before diving down for a kiss.

If Tony smelled and sounded amazing, he tasted even better. Spices again, mixed with chocolate and something uniquely him. Steve was willing to learn to breathe through his ears if it meant he could keep kissing Tony forever.

Finally, Tony rocked back slightly, and when Steve pulled up to look at him, he was panting heavily. Steve had noticed before that there was something wrong with Tony's lungs, but it was more pronounced now.

Steve wasn't one to judge — Bucky had once listed all the different things he could hear wrong with Steve's body, from his scarred lungs to his slow heart valve to the misshapen passage in his nose and the fact that his blood moved more slowly than a regular person. Steve knew that now wasn't the time to ask, but he filed it away to circle back to later.

Before he could worry too much, Tony had taken a deep breath and leaned up to kiss him again, filling Steve's senses completely. The second time Tony had to break away with a gasp, Steve was ready. He dipped his head, kissing along Tony's jaw until he reached his neck. When he sucked on the place where Tony's pulse surged against his throat, he gasped in a far more pleasurable way.

Steve continued to work at the spot, adding suction and little nips, urged on by Tony's breathy moans of "god", "more", "yes". Finally, when words seemed to have deserted Tony entirely, Steve resumed his exploration. Trailing his mouth after his fingers, he saw, smelled, felt, and tasted every inch of Tony. At one point they shifted so that Tony could roll onto his stomach, but the movement barely registered to Steve, so caught up in his imprint.

He wasn't sure when he realized that Tony was making an imprint of his own, but eventually the gentle ebb and flow of emotions teasing at his mind finally registered as Tony's empathic touch. Tony was mapping Steve's spirit landscape, learning how he experienced every emotion, and tying their minds and spirits together as surely as Steve was tying their bodies.

When the drive to imprint eased, Steve found himself straddling Tony, mirroring the position they had been in earlier. Nuzzling the back of Tony's neck, Steve inhaled his unique scent — not to imprint, but just to drink in the intoxicating mixture.

Suddenly something snapped in his mind, and he felt a loosening, almost like when Tony had dug into an especially painful part of his back earlier. Without needing to ask, he somehow knew that was Tony completing his part of the imprint: their bond settling in his mind. As he watched, Tony reached out and fumbled for the bedside table and pulled a thin tube from the basket there. "Lube," he explained, tossing it over his shoulder at Steve, who caught it unconsciously.

Steve knew what came next, and he slid back down Tony's legs, nudging them apart as he did and settling between them. He felt Tony's amusement and anticipation, and overarching all of it his love. Steve couldn't imagine someone loving him as much as Tony did, let alone so quickly. Normally he would wonder if he was worthy of such unconditional devotion, but apparently a side effect of the bond was that he was filled with Tony's certainty that he was worth every drop.

A flash of insecurity passed through his mind, and Steve realized it was Tony's. A beat later he realized that he had paused what he was doing, overcome with Tony's feelings, and that hesitation was what Tony was picking up on. Desperate to reassure him, Steve bent and kissed a line the rest of the way down Tony's spine.

Tony's worry vanished from their bond as Steve lavished attention on his tight ass, though he still hesitated when it came to progressing further. Steve was no stranger to gay sex — the Star Spangled Dancers weren't the only members of their troupe who wanted a piece of him, and the stagehands had all been delightfully muscled. That said, he wanted this to be perfect for Tony, and he didn't know how much experience his guide had.

"You won't break me," Tony murmured, amused. "This isn't my first time."

Steve banished a flash of possessive anger that someone else had touched his guide, and accepted the reassurance for what it was. Opening the tube of lube that Tony had tossed at him, Steve began to go through the familiar motions of prepping a partner. Except nothing was the same, because this was Tony. This was his Guide.

Tony's love, reassurance, and want continued to hum through their bond, driving Steve on when his insecurities would have made him hesitate. Finally Tony groaned and rocked back against his hand. "If you don't get inside me in the next few seconds I won't be held responsible for my actions," he warned.

He couldn't get a clearer invitation, and Steve chuckled as he withdrew his fingers, feeling Tony's momentary sense of loss coupled with his anticipation singing down their bond. Scooting into position, Steve aligned their bodies and drew up Tony's hips. Sliding into him, Steve felt tight heat envelop him and he couldn't help but groan at the pleasure.

To his surprise, he felt an answering sensation of stretch and fullness and it took Steve a moment to realize that he was getting Tony's side of their coupling, echoing through the bond. "Okay, that's the best thing ever," Tony moaned. "Why did no one tell me this in Guide school?"

"You feel it too?" Steve asked, pleased that he wasn't the only one experiencing double the pleasure.

"This 'best of both worlds' moment? Hell yeah," Tony assured him. "This was already so much better than regular sex, but daaaamn."

Steve couldn't disagree, now that he was used to it. He rocked back, pulling halfway out, and then slammed forward. His sentinel talents allowed him to find Tony's prostate, which he had located while preparing him, and nail it with his thrust. A burst of pleasure surged through Steve as Tony cried out.

Setting a steady rhythm, Steve lost himself in the waves of pleasure that surged through him and raced along their bond. He'd never felt pleasure like this before, even during what he'd previously counted as the best sex he'd ever had. Part of him never wanted it to end, but he knew he had to complete their bond.

Steve picked up the pace, feeling his climax drawing closer. From the breathy moans and bond echoes he got, Tony felt the same. Shifting his body so that he could lean down over Tony's back, Steve's new angle went slightly deeper. More importantly, he could reach the place on Tony's neck that had made him gasp earlier. Biting down and sucking at Tony's neck, Steve sped up the pace of his thrusts.

With a wild cry of "God, Steve!" Tony came, his ass clenching around Steve's dick as his pleasure overloaded their forming bond. The combined sensations were too much for Steve to handle, and his own climax ripped through him.

He felt more than heard the snap of their bond permanently slotting into place, and then their joined pleasure surged, overwhelming him. Steve let himself fall, trusting Tony and their bond, as rapture overtook him: the world disappearing save for Steve, Tony, and their bond.

When Tony awoke, it was to an overwhelming feeling of warmth and contentment. He couldn't remember ever feeling this good, even when Blair or Emily projected calm and happiness at him. As he got more used to the all-consuming wonderfulness that was their bond, he was able to push back against it a little, enough to get control of his other senses.

Tony quickly figured out that he and Steve were still in bed together, and Steve was still inside him. The glorious ache in his ass was a reminder of what they had been doing before he blacked out, as though he could have forgotten. In sleep, they had shifted slightly sideways, so instead of being on top of him, Steve was partially curled around him. His top arm wrapped around Tony's waist, while their heads rested on the other. Tony could feel Steve's breath on the back of his neck, steady and warm, just like the heartbeat that thumped against his back. Steve's leg was thrown over Tony's, and yet, despite how close they were, Tony still craved more contact.

Rocking back against his Sentinel — his sentinel! — Tony couldn't help the moan that escaped. Their bond still connected them, enabling him to feel Steve's side as well as his own.

"Hey there," Steve murmured against his neck, his arms tightening comfortingly.

"Mmm… you feel so good," Tony explained. "Never want this to end."

"I don't think we can stay in this room forever," Steve chuckled.

Tony rocked back against him and clenched his ass muscles. "You sure?"

Steve moaned. "I'm willing to be convinced." He tightened his hold on Tony, shifting his leg and rocking them forward. In their new angle, he hit Tony's prostate perfectly, and Tony took a moment to briefly wonder if that was some sentinel superpower that they kept tightly hidden, or just an aspect of the miracle that was Steve.

Then Steve's hand found his dick, and Tony stopped thinking for a while.

It took them three days before either Steve or Tony was willing to leave the bed for more than a bathroom break or to grab their meals from the antechamber. They didn't spend all of that time having sex, though there was plenty of that as well. Tony relished the ache every time he sat, and the way their bond shared their pleasure would never get old.

Steve's confession that he enjoyed being on the receiving end as well had led to them switching places, and the discovery that the bond worked this way too.

Between all the sex and the occasional food breaks, Tony and Steve talked. Steve shared stories from his childhood in prohibition- and then depression-era Brooklyn, and Tony shared a few brief impressions of his childhood in Long Island.

Mostly, Tony focused on his time at RIMA and OSU — his many sessions with Emily and Jae had made it clear that stories about his childhood should not be shared with sentinels unless he was ready for them to hunt down his father. Apparently, his funny story about cutting up his dad's ski suit and not being able to sit for two months after was child abuse — something he had learned about in the police academy, but had trouble applying to himself — and sentinels were super touchy about such things.

It was bad enough that he had to explain about the plague — which had, indeed, made Steve slide towards a feral rage on his behalf, until Tony assured him that Hanna Lowell had died only a few months after her attack. He'd thought that his experience with the plague could be a kind of bonding moment, since Steve's file said he had lived through both the Scarlet and Rheumatic Fevers as a child, but Tony had underestimated Steve's protective instincts.

Abuse and near-death experiences aside, Tony's stories about RIMA were relatable to Steve, with his background as a soldier, and there were definite similarities between his frat buddies and the Howling Commandos.

Steve had also shared the story of how he was chosen by Doctor Erskine, and how he had been transformed in that machine, not just into a super soldier, but a sentinel. Tony told the convoluted tale of his own unusual journey from latent to shaman to guide, and they did a little speculating about which had come first: Tony's connection to the frozen Steve, or his onlining as a Shaman.

The icy nature of Tony's intrinsic shields could make a case for him feeling Steve in the ice long before he became a shaman, and the fact that he hadn't onlined as a guide until Steve was found fit nicely as well. Of course, that led to Steve feeling guilt that Tony had been waiting so long, and Tony feeling guilt that he might have been able to find Steve earlier if he had been a proper guide, so by unspoken, mutual, agreement they both started avoiding that topic.

Between the epic bouts of sex and the getting to know each other, Steve and Tony kept themselves pleasantly occupied for the better part of three days. Finally, around two AM on the fourth day — their internal clocks were completely off kilter, but Tony couldn't bring himself to care if it meant he got to have sex anytime they wanted — they decided to check back in with the outside world.

Tony pulled his cell and laptop out of his go bag and plugged them in. As they charged and then booted up, he explained the bare basics of the technology, promising Steve that he'd get him more comprehensive information once he had the time.

The first night, while the doctors were looking over Steve, Tony had had a chance to call Abby and Kate and let them know that he was probably going to be incognito for a little while. He had also been able to warn that something hinky was going on, and that they shouldn't say anything remotely related to him to anyone except himself or Gibbs on a secure line.

Emily and the others had sent short written messages in with their meals, letting them know that the plan was progressing well and that Garcia's trap had been sprung, so Tony and Steve knew what was happening closer to home.

Now, Tony found daily texts from Kate and Abby, each of them telling him how their case with Balboa was going — something important and mysterious that they couldn't give him details on — and teasingly asking how he was enjoying being at the Center's beck and call.

From the tone of their messages, it was clear that someone had clued them in on the cover story for Fury, as Abby had even made a reference to Gibbs helping him focus. Since Abby usually functioned as Gibbs's guide support over his earwig, her words had to have been prompted by the others. Kate also said something about his work leaving him tired, and asked to just let them know he was okay when he could.

Tony sent her a quick text confirming that this was the first time he had the energy to check his phone, and that he was doing well. If they were going to help sell his ruse, the least he could do was play along and assure them that he was okay. Tony also texted Abby, giving her much the same message.

Steve had been wrapped around him from behind, chin resting on Tony's shoulder, so Tony gave him a little background on each woman while he scrolled through their messages. While they hadn't made any definitive plans about their job prospects, Tony knew that regardless of what he and Steve did, Abby and Kate wouldn't let him keep them out of his life. And they would both delight in sharing embarrassing stories about him with Steve.

Thankfully, Steve's possessiveness had abated, and he easily listened to Tony talk about his team. He also asked if Tony would like to come with him to meet his living friends and the families of the others, and Tony was happy to reciprocate.

Once Tony had a chance to skim through his emails — nothing important, but he shot back a few quick replies to some of them — they settled back onto the bed. Tony elected to be the big spoon this time, sitting against the headboard and tucking Steve in between his legs. It wasn't that Tony didn't love being wrapped in Steve's arms — because, fuck, did he ever! — but they were about to start their history lessons, and he figured Steve would need all the familiarity and comfort he could get.

Being Tony, of course, he was a) jumping in with both feet, and b) doing it through movies. Since Tony's basic recollection of history was that a typical soldier wasn't aware of the true horrors of that time until it was over, he decided to start off with Schindler's List.

Steve didn't need a Band of Brothers style piece to tell him what he had personally lived through with the standard front-line troops, and he already knew all about D-Day, so Tony's plan was to hit the major points of the holocaust that weren't realized until later, and then jump to the Pacific front and the Manhattan project before wrapping up with the peacetime half of the decade.

It might have been better to ease Steve into things, but Tony didn't think it got much more jarring than, 'Hey, it's late 2011, not early 1945, surprise!" From his impression of Steve, which was heavily influenced by their bond, Tony thought that chronologically would be the best way to get Steve caught up.

After all, how could he truly appreciate the relative power of UNIAC if he already knew about the ipod? How could he truly appreciate the brilliance of Chuck Berry if he'd already experienced Queen? How could he truly appreciate the moon landing if he'd already seen the Challenger's last mission? and so on. With the exception of seeing his iphone and laptop in action, Tony was doing his best to eliminate anachronisms.

Some things were more important than others, obviously, but Tony was going to do his best to catch Steve up on as much as possible, and in his mind keeping everything roughly in order was the best method. With his laptop settled on Steve's lap, Tony queued up the movie and then wrapped his arms around his sentinel. He wasn't going to skip the bad stuff, but that didn't mean he was looking forward to how much certain moments would hurt Steve. Still, Tony knew they'd get through it all, together.

Chapter Text

"Well, look who finally decided to grace us with their presence," Guide Emily teased as they entered the New York Center's conference room. Tony flushed slightly, but Steve accepted the teasing with good grace. They probably could have left the bonding suite yesterday, as his territorial and posessive impulses had mostly faded by then, but Steve wasn't going to give up an excuse to cuddle or have sex with his guide if he didn't have to.

Unfortunately, tomorrow was the end of their week's leeway, and Tony had argued that they needed to put in an appearance, at least with the others in the know, to get an update on what had happened in the outside world.

In truth, Steve wasn't looking forward to the outside world at all. He and Tony had almost finished the 1940s in his speed-education, though Tony had stressed that it was impossible to cover everything. Still, his highlights had been mind-blowing enough, and Steve was grateful that Tony had included a few movies that weren't historical, but simply entertaining and from the period. It was fun to see actors that he knew and liked, in the kind of story he was used to watching.

Even though he had blushed, Tony wasn't shy about teasing back. "Like you would have turned down a few extra days with Yulia?"

Gui— Emily and her sentinel exchanged smirks, then laughed, Tony joining in. Tony had made a point to Steve that he didn't need to be so formal, calling everyone by their full title, and he was trying to shift his mindset to use first or last names only if invited to, the way Tony did. It helped that Tony referred to people that way, and Steve was working on it.

"Regardless, things have been quiet since Fury tripped our networks," George said, though his own tone was amused. "As far as we can tell, he's buying our ruse — especially since Gibbs said you started communicating with the outside world, Tony."

"Yeah, any word on Rocky?" Tony asked, looking at Gibbs and sobering instantly.

"He's awake, and recovering as expected," Gibbs reported. Tony's texts last night had said that Agent Balboa — who Tony and the girls called 'Rocky', for some reason — was injured in an explosion and hospitalized. Tony had been upset, but then compartmentalized it just like the soldiers Steve knew. If Steve had ever doubted the strength of the police officers or federal agents among his new companions, he didn't now: they were as strong mentally as any soldier he had served with.

"Good," Tony said, relief flooding their bond. "So what else is new?"

"We called our contacts — well, Blair and Jim called their contacts — and the SecArm promised to send us his most discrete, highest ranked minion," George said cheerfully. "They're actually from DC, though part of the local Army tribe, not Marius and Jae's like you. Walsh is the youngest living General, and the Chief Sentinel Advisor to the SecArm. His guide is a JAG lawyer, so all of our bases are covered."

"They're fully on board with our plan to spite Fury — the guy just makes friends wherever he goes, it seems," Blair said sarcastically.

"Where are they now?" Steve asked.

"Waiting outside — we didn't want to spring new people on you without warning," Aria said.

Tony sent a questioning feeling along their bond, and Steve sent agreement back. "Well bring 'em on in," Tony said brightly. "The more the merrier, right?"

Before anyone could rise, the door opened. "We heard our names," said a young man with curly brown hair and tanned skin. "Or, rather, Shane was shamelessly eavesdropping and heard our names," he said cheekily.

"You would if you could," his sentinel teased from behind him. Though neither one was in their uniform, Steve had gathered from their conversation so far that both were in the Army and much higher rank than him. Without thinking about it, he stood and saluted.

They both came to attention and saluted back before relaxing again. The sentinel — General Walsh — was built a lot like Steve, and his bald head appeared to be more for style than age, as he appeared younger than Gibbs. Steve knew that sentinels had drastically slowed aging once they came online, and he figured Walsh was somewhere between forty and sixty, though he looked to be in his mid-thirties.

"At ease, Captain," General Walsh said gruffly, though he smelled amused. "Nobody's standing on rank in this room. We're just here to represent your interests with the Army, and make sure that no one takes advantage of you. You're one of ours, and both the Army and the Tribe take care of their own."

"Thank you, sir," Steve said with heartfelt sincerity, then let Tony tug him back down to his chair. They were both still a little 'skin-hungry' — as Tony called it — and had jammed their chairs as close together as possible when they entered.

"So, what have you two got for us?" Tony asked easily, not phased by their ranks in the least.

"Well, we've prepared the paperwork to officially recover Rogers and change his MIA status," the guide said. "We have two options ready — retirement or renewed enlistment — and we'd like to talk to you two before deciding which to go ahead with."

"Whichever option you chose, we've got a handful of medals to pin on your chest, which were all awarded posthumously for your actions in Austria and Switzerland," General Walsh said, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "There's a promotion in it too."

"Major America?" Tony quipped. "I can't see it."

"Fun fact: Captain America is an honorary rank, not an earned one," the Guide — Steve wished he had caught his name — said. "Lieutenant Colonel Rogers's rank doesn't affect Captain America's, and vice versa."

"Sweet," Tony laughed, as Steve blinked. He was being promoted to Lieutenant Colonel? That felt like more than he deserved.

The General caught his eye, and had clearly picked up his sentiments from his expression or his scent. "Hey, the President at the time wanted to bump you all the way up to General, but I guess he was talked down. I believe the reasoning was that your actions could justify promoting up two ranks, but any higher was questionable. If they wanted to change Captain America's honorary ranks, that was one thing, but you were processed through legal channels as Captain Rogers by Brandt."

"I had no idea…" Steve cleared his throat. "I always assumed that the 'Captain' thing was for publicity. I know the first time I used it in the field Colonel Phillips looked ready to kill me, and I wasn't sure I'd get away with it when I forced his hand."

General Walsh shrugged. "It was probably Phillips' intention to bring you in at a lower rank, but there was precedent. When specialists like doctors were recruited and put through officer training, they were brought in as Captains, at the lowest, to give them authority to match their skills. You didn't technically go through the officer training — though we'd be more than happy to give it to you now, if you'd like — but that was glossed over at the time."

"When Brandt created your persona, he also registered you as a recruited officer with a highly sought-after skill set. He registered both Captain America and Captain Rogers. It was within his power to jump you straight to Major or Colonel, but I think he thought that Captain sounded better."

"Not to mention, Captain isn't just a rank in the Army," Tony piped up. "Captain is actually the highest rank — above Lieutenant and the plethora of Sergeants — that appears in all five branches of service. It's actually higher in the Navy and Coast Guard than the Army. By calling you 'Captain', instead of 'Major' or even 'Colonel', he ensured that not just every soldier, but every pilot and sailor also saw you as 'one of them,'" he explained.

Steve glanced around the room, and saw all the military folk from different branches nodding along. "I never realized…"

"He's right, you know," George said first, surprising Steve even more. "The Air Force always talked about Captain America's skill as a pilot in his final mission, and glossed over the fact that he was Army."

"Marines did it too," Gibbs agreed. "We were told about how you went back to get a whole battalion single-handedly. Captain America's the poster boy for 'leave no man behind.' I think someone made you an honorary Marine at some point, though maybe that wasn't official."

"Don't ask me why this came up, but I know it's true for the US Navy as well, because Harm would not shut up about it one night," Yulia said, and Steve felt Tony's surprise at that revelation.

"Harm's a sentinel and a Navy fighter pilot who joined JAG," Tony whispered, filling in some of the blanks. "He used to help teach at Yulia's dojo before he got promoted too high to have the free time. We worked with him at NCIS, too. You'll like him."

"So it sounds like Tony hit the nail on the head; Captain America's moniker was probably chosen so that it would appeal to all branches of the armed forces, and that's probably why the President was talked out of changing it at the time," Blair declared. "In the meantime, Captain Rogers had no such restrictions, and the Army and the President saw fit to give him the promotions and recognition he earned, but not throw any more honorary things at him."

"In a nutshell," General Walsh agreed.

"Aside from all that, what was the SecArm's take on all this?" Tony asked.

"About what you'd expect," Jim Ellison piped up. "About what we all feel. Shock and disbelief that Steve was found, a bit of confusion about how he ended up with a guide in this time period, and a good dose of suspicion and distrust of Fury."

"That man seems to specialize in not making friends," Blair added, shaking his head and making his loose curls bob everywhere. "Literally every other agency director I've met has understood the need to cooperate with the Council, and yet Fury seems to view us as their enemy as much as countries we've gone to war against."

Tony cleared his throat. "Granted this is the first time I've met him, which probably helped save our bacon, but he reminds me of Big Mike. He always—"

"DiNozzo," Gibbs barked.

Tony froze, confused for a moment, and then a hint of embarrassment and regret flicked through their bond. "Sorry, Uh, Mike Macaluso is the former-ish head of the Philly Macaluso crime family."

"Wait, you call Macaluso 'Big Mike'?" George was incredulous, but the others didn't seem to be as surprised. Steve found himself in the unusual position of being one of the few people who knew what was going on, because he had asked Tony more about his mafia personna.

Tony shrugged, "He told me to, and never retracted the offer, so…"

"Wait, are you the undercover operative who put Macaluso in prison? The FBI was furious that Philly PD wouldn't give up his name. How are you still alive?" George asked.

"I'm alive because my lieutenant didn't give up my name," Tony said sourly. "We started to suspect, and I eventually confirmed, that Big Mike had several moles in the Philly Bureau. That's why he so easily made everyone sent in undercover. When the Fibbies started demanding my name, even though they wouldn't give us any details of their own supposed op, my Louie refused and then called in a favor from an assistant director he'd grown up with."

"You're also the one behind the Bureau cleaning house back then?" Steve didn't think that George could be more shocked.

Tony shrugged. "That was just a byproduct. My goal was to take down Big Mike and ideally stay alive in the process. The Fibbies just got in my way."

"Jesus," George sank back in his chair. Gibbs was smirking, clearly having heard this story before. The three Army men were also smirking, their smells ranging from amused to impressed.

"I looked into it when I hired him," Gibbs added. "Federal stats on infiltrating the Mob: two in ten agents go native and become dirty, seven in ten are killed, and one in ten gets out alive, intact, and in witsec."

"Witness protection," Tony whispered to Steve. "They change your name and move you across the country to hide who you are. I'll show you a couple of movies"

Steve nodded and accepted that. Tony's answer to most things was a brief explanation and a promise of a movie or two in the future. Steve had always enjoyed the rare chance to see a movie himself, before the war, but Tony had seen hundreds — maybe even thousands — more than Steve. He was slowly starting to understand how Tony related to the world through them, and Steve already knew there would be many movie references in his future.

"But Tony isn't in witsec: where does that place him?" Blair asked.

Gibbs' smirk widened, and Tony blushed. "Uh, well, Big Mike likes me. As long as I stay out of Philly, the hit on me doesn't go into effect. Anyway, I was making a point," he hurried on, as jaws dropped around the table.

"Fury reminds me a little of Big Mike. And of some of the CIA guys I've met, but to a lesser extent. Basically, they're untrustworthy. And because of that, they assume that everyone else is just like them — also untrustworthy. Even if they aren't doing anything wrong, or illegal, or that's a betrayal, or what have you, they're still paranoid because 'what if they were'?"

"You're saying that, because Fury has so many secrets, he just naturally makes things a secret that don't have to be. He has so many convoluted plots that it's gotten to the point where everything has to be a convoluted plot." Blair said thoughtfully.

"That's my take on him," Tony agreed. "It would also explain why he's so antagonistic towards the S&G Centers. Theoretically he's running an aboveboard American federal agency that reports to the President and at least one oversight committee, but with a pretty broad mandate. But because he's doing things that he's hiding from them, he assumes that any other similar organization, like the Council, must be hiding things too."

"So he assumes that we're hiding something, and when he can't find anything, he assumes that we're hiding it really well and that he needs to look deeper," Jim concluded. "That explains a lot, actually."

"Hang on, is that how you did it?" George asked Tony. When he was met with blank expressions, he elaborated. "Is that how you survived Big Mike without being made? By playing on that tendency?"

Tony smirked, his scent radiating smug pride. "You mean, did he eventually find out my deep dark secret and assure me he would keep it, thus earning my undying gratitude and loyalty, while blinding him to the fact that I might have a different deep dark secret, like that I'm a cop? Whyever would you think that?"

General Walsh and Gibbs both openly chuckled at that, as the others looked at Tony with varying degrees of respect and awe. Steve thought it was pretty impressive too, but then he thought that about most things that Tony told him.

"Well that explains why you suggested the plot you did," Jim said thoughtfully. "Setting things in our system for him to find in such a way that he thinks he's scored a hit…"

"Implying that your lies in his HQ were to cover some Shaman skills, not the fact that you're Steve's guide… "Blair added.

"If the enemy's looking for your secrets, give him a secret to find, so he'll stop looking," General Walsh agreed. "I like it."

Tony was still smirking. "So, as far as Fury knows, we've partially done what we said we would, by contacting the Army and JAG to handle Steve. Meanwhile, he's 'discovered' that the rest was a lie to cover what we shamans were up to in tracking and presumably healing Steve. Has he reached out officially, or just hacked around?"

"We got the official request this morning, addressed to Ramón and I, care of the New York Center," General Walsh said. Steve made a mental note of his Guide's name, determined not to forget it.

"Showing that he knows that you're the ones the SecArm sent, and where you currently are," Tony nodded. "Did he ask for access to Steve, or just make demands?"

"Here," Ramón slid a folder across the table to them.

Tony quickly opened it, holding it so that Steve could look over his shoulder. The letterhead looked official, and it was all done with formal ranks, addressed to Guide Lieutenant Colonel Ramón Herrera, JAG Corps, and Sentinel General Shane Walsh, Assistant Secretary of the Army. Seeing it spelled out like that, it finally clicked for Steve what SecArm probably stood for. He wondered if that position was similar to the Secretary of War who had headed the War Department in his time.

After all of the titles and whatnot, the rest of the letter was fairly short. Fury made a point of mentioning that it was his people and technology that had found Captain America — he never once referred to him as Steve Rogers — and even referenced the long history that SHIELD had with those closest to the Captain, like Peggy Carter and Howard Stark.

Finally, he concluded with a request to speak to Captain America at his earliest convenience, in the interest of briefing him on world events and his continuing place with the Howling Commandos, now a division of SHIELD.

If Steve hadn't already been warned that Fury had his own agenda, this letter still would have rung alarm bells for him. It was entirely focused on Fury and what he had done for Captain America. Even the parts that appeared to be talking about what Fury could do for him still heavily implied that Fury would be doing him a favor that Steve should appreciate.

It also implied that Steve had been one of the first members of SHIELD, even though it had come after his crash. Steve didn't even know that the Howling Commandos had continued after his apparent death, or that they had been involved in SHIELD. Just because his friends had created SHIELD didn't mean that Steve had or wanted to have anything to do with it.

"That's an impressive piece of work," Tony murmured. "Manages to obliquely insult Carter, Stark, Steve, Blair and Jim, the Army, and the Sentinel and Guide Council, plus the New York Center specifically, without saying a single thing. Fury's got an impressive writing team."

"Okay, I got a few of those, but how do you figure?" Steve asked. If there was one thing he had become sure of in the past week, it was that Tony was brilliant, and had a way of looking at things that Steve didn't, and not just because of the time differences.

"Well, after the header, he doesn't refer to anyone by their proper title. Carter was a powerful Guide and a federal agent — she was even Fury's boss for a while, before he was promoted — but she's just 'Peggy Carter' here, not Alpha Guide Carter, or Agent or Former Director Carter… nothing."

"We caught that too," Emily said sourly. "He does the same with Howard Stark, and he consistently refers to Steve as Captain America, rather than some form of Sentinel Captain Rogers. Or, more appropriately, Sentinel Lieutenant Colonel Rogers."

"Exactly! The rank promotions were awarded back in the 1940s," Guide Herrera broke in. "He was already Lieutenant Colonel Rogers before Fury was even born."

Tony nodded, "Yeah, and then there's the part where we specifically told him to address all his concerns to both JAG and the Sentinel and Guide Council. By ignoring the Council and only appealing to the Army, he's ignoring our instructions."

"He probably thinks that because Hererra and Walsh are also a Sentinel and Guide that he'll get away with it, but you aren't in the leadership chain at all. The implication that he can do a better job of healing and training Steve than the Manhattan Center is implied throughout, but isn't as bad as the overall slight to the Council."

Glancing back at the letter, Steve could now see what Tony was saying. He too had assumed that Fury was covering both the military and the sentinel and guide aspects by directing his letter to a pair who were both. However, in addressing only one single pair, he was completely disregarding the entire chain of command of the Sentinel and Guide Council and the Centers.

"It's also insulting to Blair and Jim, when you think about it," Tony added. That got him a few confused looks, but Steve understood, as it followed directly from his last revelation.

"Because Jim and Blair were with you, and he didn't address that in the letter," Steve said. "He's trying to go over their heads, or well, under their heads, by asking a couple that's presumably subordinate to them to overrule them."

Tony squeezed his hand. "Exactly," he said proudly. "Even if he kept the International Council out of it, our Alpha Primes have already shown that they're involved, because they were there the night we rescued you, and speaking to anyone lower than them is an insult. Although, I wouldn't rule out the possibility that he also went over their heads. Have we heard anything from the Council? There's, what, two couples who are higher than you two?"

Blair nodded. "Matthew and Leigh Brookeburn for Europe are the heads of the Council, and officially Adanna and Shaka Usman for Africa are their Betas. Jim and I are third. I spoke to Matthew and Adanna, and both promised to let me know immediately if they heard from Fury."

"Adanna's also a shaman, so I've met her through the spirit plane," Tony murmured to Steve. "She's kickass — you'll like her."

"Since he doesn't appear to have contacted the Council, I think it's pretty safe to infer that Fury has no friends there," Jim said. "He probably thinks he has enough friends on the Hill and in the Army that he can bypass the Council with a formality by dealing with people who also happen to be sentinels and guides, like Ramón and Shane."

"That was my read on it," Tony agreed. "So far he's sticking more or less to what we demanded, keeping his distance and reaching out through channels. With a little computer hacking on the side, of course. So what's the plan for this week?"

"Well, if you two agree, we'll send Fury a letter back basically thanking him for his service and saying that our hands are tied until the Council makes a decision," Guide Herrera said. "That leaves the door open that we might cooperate, but also forces him to go about things properly. If he still thinks he has a chance, that should buy us another week or so."

Tony glanced at Steve, and he nodded. If Tony thought this was the way to go, Steve trusted his read on Fury and his understanding of the politics involved. They'd had several private conversations about what they wanted to do with their lives, and were on the same page there.

"Sounds good to us," Steve decided.

"We've also reached out to your friends, as you wanted," Aria said. She'd been quiet so far, but now she slid a paper across the table to Steve. "That's a list of who we've reached. Everyone we spoke to would love to see you."

Steve looked at the list, and saw that it was laid out with several arrows. Alpha Guide Peggy Carter was at the top, with an arrow down to several other names, and another batch from them. There were check marks beside Peggy's name, those that he assumed were her son and daughter, and a girl from the last group — a granddaughter, he guessed.

Before Steve could continue to scan the others, Aria spoke up again. "We thought, with your permission, that we'd arrange for meetings with them over the next week. Our inclination would be to initially continue the ruse that Tony is not your Guide. He and Emily or Blair would be present, with Gibbs and their sentinels standing guard. While we don't think anyone would go running to Fury, several of them work for SHIELD, and we can't rule out him putting them under surveillance, or giving them orders."

Steve recoiled from the thought. "I don't want to deny Tony — I'm not ashamed of him."

Tony sent a burst of love and affection through their bond. "I'm not ashamed of you either," he quickly assured Steve. "Unfortunately, you think in a disgustingly straightforward manner, love. Fury thinks in a convoluted web, and he has information that can make our lives difficult. If we want to keep him at bay, it might take a little playacting on our parts for a while."

Steve sighed, not liking what Tony was saying, but also unable to refute it. He had also caught the glimpse of humor through their bond, and knew that Tony wasn't above teasing him about his acting stint on the Star Spangled Tour. Steve might not like lying, but he did know how to act, and he knew that sometimes you had to do things you didn't like for the bigger good. Still, "I don't want to lie to my friends."

"I don't think you'll necessarily have to," Tony said slowly. "I mean, for the most part, they know everything that happened to you before you crashed that plane. It's perfectly true to say that all they've missed was a long cold nap and then your recovery here. A recovery where several shamans are keeping a close eye on you — true — and where you're still figuring out your place in this new world — also true."

"Asking them about what they've spent the last seventy years doing, or reminiscing about old times, or catching up on the people who can't be here — none of those things require lying either. I suspect you'll spend maybe five minutes bringing them up to speed on yourself, and then the rest of the time hearing from them. You might not introduce me as your guide, but that isn't the same as lying."

"He's not wrong," Emily said. "I'm sure your friends will be so happy to see you that they'll refrain from pressing you about anything you don't want to say. They won't be able to cover a lifetime in a single visit, so you'll continue to see them in the future, and at some point the time will be right to introduce them properly to Tony."

George piped up, "And you'd also be saving those who work at SHIELD from being put in an awkward position if Fury asks them about you. If they can honestly say that they did most of the talking, and you had nothing to say, then they won't feel that they're breaking your trust if their boss confronts them."

Steve hadn't thought about the impact of his visits on his old friends in that way, but it made sense. And if keeping his private life just that — private — actually made things easier on them, then that was something he could get behind. He nodded. "I agree; I won't volunteer information about my bonding, or my condition."

It was no secret that the super serum would heal almost any physical damage to his body — the fact that he was alive was proof enough of that — so there was no point in hiding what Fury already knew.

"As for the rest, I say we give it a few days, let you catch up with your friends, and see if Fury goes to the Council properly, before we make any other decisions," Aria declared. "We've prepared for the worst, so let's proceed as though things are going their best, and deal with any hiccups as they arise."

"As always, I bow to your wisdom," Tony said with a fond laugh. If Steve was remembering the stories right, Tony had only met Aria the evening that they rescued him from Fury — it was amazing how easily Tony made friends. Steve hoped that a little of that kind of luck would rub off on him: he could use all the friends he could get in this century.

Chapter Text

"So, you're the guy my dad wouldn't shut up about, huh?" Tony Stark asked. He had breezed into the room on his phone, hanging up with someone he called 'Pep' just in time to drop into his seat and prop his feet up on the second chair. He was a disrespectful, arrogant man, who seemed to have no appreciation for the amazing things his father had done.

Steve instantly disliked him.

His own Tony sent a complex feeling along their bond — Steve still hadn't identified all the components of it, but he had felt it the night before when they were watching movies together. After a pleasant, if surreal, day with Peggy and her family, Tony had decided on some uplifting Disney movies. But Cinderella had sent his emotions haywire, despite him doing his best to suppress them.

Now, Steve took a moment to recall the movie, and when Tony's reaction had been the strongest. It was the stepmother, Steve realized, who displayed one attitude towards her daughters and a completely different one towards Cinderella, and yet a third towards the royal folk. Steve got the message: Tony Stark was displaying one attitude in this meeting, but that wasn't necessarily the real him.

Leaning back in his chair with a smirk, Steve decided to fight fire with fire, "Well, I wouldn't know. He didn't talk about me to me," he said sarcastically.

Stark snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure you had plenty of important conversations about science and business and war and such. You were bestest buds and all that. Well, before you became a Capsicle. Even now, your patriot-shake's bringing all the feds to the yard, isn't it?"

The jibe amused his Tony, so Steve didn't feel like taking offense. That and the fact that he didn't understand half of what Stark said. There was something slightly off about Stark's scent, though. Steve could smell that his emotions didn't match his attitude, and there was something else deeply off about him. It skittered along Steve's senses but he couldn't place it. Steve wasn't sure what to do — should he press for more details about what was wrong, or just let Stark say his piece and get back to the numerous important and time-sensitive things he had been talking about with the person named Pep?

"Alright, I'm about to break rule four," Tony whispered so quietly that only Steve and the other sentinels could hear him. It wasn't the first time he had mentioned these rules, which only Gibbs seemed to know. Steve resolved to learn them all, sooner rather than later. "If I'm wrong, I trust you all to handle this."

Before Steve could object, his Tony stepped forward from the second table where he and Emily were sitting, ostensibly monitoring the situation. He sauntered forward and rested his hip against the main table, halfway between Tony Stark and Steve. "So, Stark, indulge my curiosity," he said. "Did Fury try to manipulate you by telling you not to come, or did he try to manipulate you by telling you to come and spy for him?"

Stark's pulse sped up for a few beats, then slowed again. Just as Steve was realizing that his heartbeat was part of the oddity he couldn't place, Stark chuckled. "I like you; you get it. The one-eyed wonder hid the Cap's files, knowing I'd hack them, and then sent me an email today telling me that I shouldn't come here, because the Center was up to something. So, little of column A, little of column B."

"Ah," Steve's Tony nodded. "And did he mention, or did you happen upon, the part where he illegally used your father's proprietary designs to continue the search for Sentinel Rogers?"

Stark's scent took on a sour tone, though his voice remained cheerful as he said, "I hadn't confronted him about that yet. Kinda hard without proof of what dad might have given or loaned to Aunt Peggy without the expectation that it would be passed down to her successor, but no explicit instruction not to."

"Still, gotta be a bitch to find that out, especially after the Stane thing," Steve's Tony continued. When Stark looked at him in surprise, he said, "Gibbs and I are NCIS — Naval—"

"— Criminal Investigative Services, I know," Stark interrupted.

"Then you know that half of your convoy that day were Marines?" Tony asked softly. Stark just nodded. "We looked into their deaths — it's what we do. When you were found, we asked for the chance to interview you, to try to answer some of our remaining questions, but he refused us access."

"Our Forensics tech was working on compiling his dirty secrets so Gibbs could use them to persuade his cooperation when he died. She gave us the heads up on his dirty dealings, and how you were trying to make up for his and your father's legacy."

Steve wasn't sure what that was about, or why Tony made Howard's legacy sound like a bad thing, but he didn't say anything. Tony's quiet story had affected Stark, and he was smelling sorrowful, pissed off, and relieved.

"I should sue you for breaking into my files," he said half-heartedly.

"So should we," Tony teased back. "Or are you going to tell me that Fury broke into the Center's system twice to look at the same information? Our friend who did the security was very impressed with your attempt; she almost missed it."

Amusement threaded through Stark's scent. "I'm impressed that she even caught me. Jarvis is the best." That was a name Steve vaguely knew, though he had never met the man. "So, you know I'm not dancing to Fury's fife," he said brashly. "And you don't seem to be either, Agent…"

Steve's Tony felt a bolt of surprise and suspicion, though only the former showed on his face. "You mean Fury didn't bitch about me to you? Or you didn't hack into SHIELD and watch our epic operation to outplay him? Because I know you're not telling me that someone as brilliant and rightly paranoid as Tony Stark didn't compile dossiers on every single name you found."

Stark met his gaze for several seconds, then finally chuckled. "I'd say you could just call me 'Tony', Agent DiNozzo, but I suspect that we'd confuse too many people if we did that."

Steve's Tony laughed back. "We would, which means we should definitely try that some time. But in the meantime, you should take off those suppressors, Guide Stark. They're amazing tech, but you can't fool a shaman." He tapped his temple.

Real shock and a hint of fear hit Stark for a moment, before curiosity overwhelmed him, with a hearty dose of resignation. "I would, but, it's actually for the sentinel's sake."

"Oh?"

Stark scowled, "Yeah, I tested it on Rhodey — Sentinel James Rhodes." Tony nodded recognition at the name, so Stark continued. "Apparently just existing the way I do now sends out waves of 'hurt guide' or 'guide in danger' to them. The suppressors confuse them, but keep them from going feral at the sound and smell of me."

Tony cocked his head, and a moment later, Steve heard Jim and Blair leave the Turners' shielded office and head their way. "We're coming to you," Jim said, his voice easily discernible to Steve despite the distance. Clearly Blair had conveyed something similar to Tony via their shaman gifts.

"Okay, so instead of you spending the afternoon trying to give Rogers a coronary and plotting how to give Fury the same, how about you let us shamans indulge our psion-tific curiosity and maybe help you give Fury that heart attack," Steve's Tony suggested with an evil grin.

Stark looked at him as though he was insane, before grinning back. "That was a terrible pun. I'm in."

Tony rocked back in his chair, reeling his psionic senses back in. Steve rested a hand on the back of his neck, offering support, and Tony accepted it gratefully. The three shamans had needed their sentinels to ground their senses after only a few minutes' work, so the beans had been spilled to Stark.

Of course, 'spilled' was a loose interpretation of him smirking and saying, "hey, you might have fooled Fury, but I'm a guide. I saw your respective spirit animals making friends on the tape."

Discovering the extent of the damage to Stark's chest wasn't pleasant, but Blair and Emily had led Tony through an empathic healing on the spiritual plane, which was fascinating. If, of course, you ignored the fact that the colors and emotions you were seeing on that plane translated into actual physical damage on this one.

The upshot was that they were able to induce a bit of physical healing for Stark, improving his lung function considerably. Blair had no remedy for the heavy metal poisoning he'd already suffered as a byproduct of the palladium, but they were able to increase his heart function. Emily had also produced a slight tweak to the electromagnetic frequency that was holding the shrapnel at bay, allowing it to work more efficiently for less energy.

That meant that the Starkanium cores — which while much better than the old palladium ones, were still subject to eventual decay — would last even longer. Stark was also working on a kind of dialysis machine that he could use to cleanse the built up palladium toxins already in his body, and Blair offered to put him in touch with a shaman who was also a biochemist.

They had conducted a few other experiments, but Stark was right: removing his shielding device built into the rector's cover made the sentinels go crazy. Jim was the only one strong and skilled enough to break down what had upset him afterwards.

The main culprit was the remaining toxic palladium buildup, and the new core element, both of which they could smell. The compromised lung and heart function Stark was dealing with had their own audible cacophony that didn't help, and the electromagnetic field was at an annoying frequency as well. Finally, Stark was in a certain low level of pain all the time, which added to the upsetting metal smells.

The shielding device was intended to mask his smell and the odd sounds in his chest, replacing them with a steady heartbeat, but had the unexpected outcome of also dampening his psionic profile, making Stark read as latant to most lower level sentinels and guides. Since he had onlined in Afghanistan during his kidnapping, very few people even knew that he was a full guide, so the psionic masking went largely unnoticed.

After talking it over with Stark, they decided to re-engage the damping device. First, though, Blair and Emily had also taught Tony a special technique usually used in people who were suffering phantom pain in an amputated limb. They adjusted Stark's damaged nerves to loop back on themselves, just after the traumatized area, and then cut off their ability to relay sensation further up the chain to his brain.

It meant that Stark had about a half-inch circle of completely numb flesh around his prosthesis casing, but it instantly eliminated a great deal of his chronic pain. Between that and the improved cardio-pulmonary function, his pain was almost completely gone by the end of the long, exhausting session.

It also left all three shamans drained, and Tony — being unused to such complex healing — was trembling by the end. Stark was almost as exhausted, as his body adapted to the changes, and the sentinels were all on edge from the combination of their guides' state and the brief dose they'd had of Stark without his suppressors.

One unintended side effect of the day was that all of Steve's irritation with Stark had vanished under the onslaught of learning exactly what had happened to the man in Afghanistan, and the rush of 'guide in distress' pheromones he'd gotten with the suppressor off. Stark had also dropped a hint meant for Tony, and he'd easily caught it.

They were idly chatting while Jim talked Blair through his sensory impressions, and Stark had leaned over to quietly ask Tony, "So, Hawaii when you were twelve?"

Tony raised an eyebrow, acknowledging the incident and inviting Stark to explain why he brought it up. Most people would probably assume that it was a dig at his wealth, but Tony had far different memories of that trip.

"Sweden when I was nine." Stark said with a half-smile.

Tony grimaced, understanding the implication right away. He had had his suspicions over the years, after seeing some of Stark's media appearances and interviews: it was cliche, but 'it takes one to know one' wasn't completely untrue.

"Stane?" Tony asked back, knowing that they understood each other, and that Stark had researched his entire life, so the next part should make sense. "Just a Harvey Keitel, or..." Was he dirty, or was it more?

"Let's say he wanted the blue pill back," Stark said with a grimace.

"Fuck," Tony breathed, if Stane was his Cypher, then he had majorly betrayed Stark… maybe even been responsible for Afghanistan. "Before that?"

"Not a Vincenzo," Stark replied with a sympathetic grimace.

That wasn't exactly what Tony had been expecting, but he didn't blame Stark for making the connection. And it was good to know, as long as… "Any other Vincenzos lurking back there?" Not that he hoped the other man had also been abused that way, but better to know before they accidentally said or did something upsetting.

Stark just raised an eyebrow. "Well fuck," Tony said again. "For what it's worth…"

"You too," Stark nodded. Then, in a lightning-quick change of mood, he smirked and raised his voice. "So, you and grandpa, huh?"

Tony laughed. "His birthdate might say he's an octogenarian, but you can't argue with that ass," he said cheerfully. He scored a double hit, as Stark looked sick, and Steve blushed pink.

"Okay, ew, I should have known better than to give you that shot, I'll admit," Stark said. "I just always pictured someone the same age as my dad or Aunt Peggy. Meeting him and finding him so…"

"Sexy?" Tony teased.

"I was gonna say young," Stark shot back, though he couldn't fool Tony. There was a faint hint of attraction in his eyes. Not that Tony blamed him; Steve was sexy as hell. Even Emily, who was very firmly a lesbian, had admitted it. Stark was proudly bisexual, and despite his childhood memories, couldn't deny that Steve hadn't aged a day.

Tony chuckled. "Well, the next time you try to embarrass me about our relationship, remember this moment."

"Oh, I'll find something else, I'm sure," Stark shot back.

"You can ask Gibbs; he knows all kinds of embarrassing things about me," Tony offered with a smirk, "If you can convince him to give them up, of course."

Stark looked tempted — he had met Gibbs earlier, before they revealed that Tony and Steve were bonded — but then ruefully shook his head. "I know better than to try to get a Marine to betray his tribe," he said.

Tony laughed. "Well, you're a resourceful man — I'm sure you'll come up with something."

"Don't tempt me," Stark shot back.

Blair and Jim had interrupted before they could poke each other any further, but now that they were done for the day, and the Primes were escorting Stark out of the Center, Tony couldn't help but think back about their conversation.

He had realized, after hearing a few stories about Steve's friends in preparation for the coming visits, that Steve had a bit of an idealized vision of them. They had gone through war together, and while that showed a person's flaws, it also created an incredibly tight bond.

After meeting Peggy, her children, and her grandniece yesterday, and hearing them reminisce together, it had become more obvious that Steve had a bit of a rose-tinted view of the past. When Aria let them know that Tony Stark would be coming today, Tony had made a point of asking Steve about Howard last night.

Tony had gotten the usual TMZ-fueled impression of Stark through the years, but also had seen glimpses of the brilliant, sensitive genius in some of his articles. Tony, used to portraying a different persona than his actual one, had no trouble extending that impression to Stark, and wondering how much of the playboy and eccentric genius were faked.

Hearing Steve's stories about Howard, Tony was cautiously hopeful that he might recognize the same genius in his son. However, when Stark burst in and set the tone as antagonistic right off the bat, Tony knew they were in trouble.

Thankfully, Stark had toned down his aggression after Tony took control of the meeting, and Steve had toned down his own defensive aggression after getting a shot of Stark's unfiltered senses. They still had a long way to come, but Tony was already thinking through movies that he could use to pave the way.

He loved Steve — and boy, did that surprise the hell out of him after having known each other for all of a week, but it was true — but Tony wasn't blind to his faults. The man was optimistic as could be, and while that was nominally a good thing, it could lead to unintended consequences.

Abby was very similar in that way, determined to bulldoze others into sharing her cheerful optimism. Unfortunately, she sometimes let her own feelings blind her to the reality of a situation. For her, Tony suspected it was a direct reaction to the horrible things they dealt with at work: her way of blocking out the pain by focusing on the science.

If Steve did the same, refusing to see the world as it was because he was too focused on how he thought it should be, he risked alienating people like Stark who were stuck with grim reality.

Stark's hints made it even more important that Tony try to rub some of the shiny off of his sentinel. Tony had always gotten the impression that Howard Stark was more of a businessman than a family man, and Tony Stark had just obliquely confirmed it. But as things stood, Steve wasn't ready to hear that truth.

Tony would need to pick some movies that could help ease the way. He thought that Stark could be a strong ally against Fury, but only if Steve didn't alienate him first. Given Steve's attachment to Stark senior, and Stark junior's raging daddy issues, that was easier said than done.

He had already planned to show Steve a Chuck Berry biopic first thing tonight, though he now planned to delay that until after a long, soothing bath. Once Steve was watching, though, Tony would spend some time searching through his movie catalogue on his phone, trying to figure out the best way to bring Steve back to Earth without breaking him entirely.

They made it two more weeks before everything went to hell. The first week was spent in New York, with Steve getting reacquainted with his old friends, and meeting all of their new families. The second week, Tony and Gibbs couldn't put off work any longer, and had to go back to DC.

Steve, Emily, and Yulia went with them, and Ramón Herrera and Shane Walsh caught a lift on the Primes' jet as well, since they were also based out of DC. Blair and Jim had their own jobs and lives to get back to, and headed to their own Center after saying their goodbyes.

Their first night back in town, Gibbs had hosted a dinner at his place, allowing Tony to properly introduce Steve to Abby, Kate, McGee, Jimmy, and Ducky. Ducky and the girls had seen Steve in the background while video chatting with Tony, and had prepped the other two, so the shock and fanboying was minimal.

Jimmy had nearly fallen over when Steve replied to their 'thanks for your service' with the same sentiment, and Tony made a mental note to do more to ensure that Jimmy realized how important he was to the team. Just because he wasn't an agent didn't mean he wasn't doing his part for their Sailors and Marines.

McGee was a comic book geek, of course, and had asked Steve several questions about what he and the Howling Commandos had actually done, versus what was depicted in the comics. As it turned out, when it came to Schmidt, the comics weren't as fanciful as they expected, and Tony shuddered at the image of a man ripping his face off to show another, demonic, red one beneath.

Ducky, of course, had charmed Steve with a few stories from his youth — Tony was strictly enforcing his anachronism policy, and they were only at the tail end of the fifties — and his own memories of the war. Kate and Abby, as expected, did their part by eagerly sharing embarrassing stories of Tony.

All in all, it was perfect, and Tony was thrilled that Steve had fit in so well with his NCIS family. There were a few friends locally who he intended Steve to meet, and several of his frat brothers who they could video message, but Tony was holding off on that. It wasn't that Tony thought they would betray him, necessarily, he just didn't trust many people at all with Steve's secrets. His sentinel and guide family and his NCIS family were enough, for now, and he didn't need to show Steve off to anyone.

To that end, Steve wasn't accompanying Tony to work, since their shields were remarkably stable and insanely strong. It helped that Steve knew Tony was protected in the field by Gibbs, a fellow sentinel who was close as family, soothing his sentinel side. As long as Tony wasn't trying to use his guide gifts any more than he used to, he wasn't likely to need his sentinel to help shore up his shields at work.

Each day Tony dropped Steve at the DC center, where he watched Tony's prescribed course of movies and talked to the others to fill in the details. Steve promised not to dial up his senses far enough to need Tony to ground him, and he wasn't alone, so there was always a strong guide on hand to buffer him if necessary.

The arrangement had worked for the first week that Tony returned to NCIS, and they had spent the nights and weekend cuddling and having tons of sex to make up for their daily separations. After a week's trial run, Tony thought they could keep this going for as long as they needed to to get Steve caught up to the modern time and then figured out their next steps.

With Kate and McGee having wrapped up their case with Rocky's team, the full MCRT was back on rotation that Monday after Tony and the others returned to DC. If the Director felt particularly pissed about how Tony and Gibbs had just taken off without warning, she did an excellent job of keeping it off of her face. One of the new things Tony had to get used to, now that he was a real guide, was sensing emotions that didn't match the attitude a person was projecting.

Kate and McGee were, of course, glad to have Tony and Gibbs back, though they hid it behind 'yes boss'es and teasing. Abby, of course, was thrilled to see them, inside and out. But the Director was a trip. Tony had never met a person who could smile so politely while being that pissed off. He was actually kind of looking forward to seeing her go up against Fury, one day.

Chapter Text

Unfortunately, 'one day' was the Monday of the fourth week after their bonding. Almost a month after their first confrontation with him, Fury, flanked by two of his minions, strode off the elevator in the NCIS bullpen early that morning. Tony, who had been catching up on paperwork, felt the jarring sense of psionic scramblers twinge against the far edge of his senses, and looked up.

"Boss," Tony murmured, feeling a rock forming in his stomach. It seemed that their hope for more time to prepare before Fury made his move was not to be.

Gibbs's eyes flicked up, then followed Tony's gaze. "Kate, Mother-in-Law protocol," Gibbs said.

Kate looked at Gibbs in surprise, then at Tony, before picking up her desk phone. She tapped in a quick extension and repeated the command, "Mother-in-Law protocol."

When Tony quirked a brow — he had missed a lot during his bonding week, it seemed — she just mouthed "Abby" at him. It was a good plan, actually. Abby could pull up the surveillance feed of the bullpen, but also make calls to the Director and the Center without being overheard. Tony should have expected his team to have their own emergency protocols to protect him and Steve.

Fury finally reached their bullpen, and Tony sized up the agents with him: an unassuming looking man in a suit and a tall woman in a dark blue jumpsuit who's bearing screamed 'military.' Neither of them was a sentinel or guide. Fury, for his part, appeared to be wearing the same black fatigues and duster that Tony had first seen him in.

"Okay, I've gotta ask, do you just have a row of twenty identical outfits in your closet, or what?" Tony joked.

"Mister DiNozzo—"

"That's Special Agent DiNozzo," Tony said, then leered at each of his companions. "Or Very Special Agent, if you're feeling friendly." He wouldn't invade their privacy by doing a deep scan, but it was almost impossible for a shaman with his power levels not to pick up on surface emotions, just like Gibbs couldn't not hear their breathing and heartbeat.

The woman scoffed, feeling disgusted, but the man just raised an eyebrow. He had a tightly controlled emotional core that would put the shields of most guides to shame, and Tony wondered for a brief moment if he was some heretofore unknown kind of guide who could go undetected by even a shaman. Tony had been a shaman while still a latent guide, so nothing would surprise him. Fury, of course, was wearing his psionic scramblers, so Tony tried to avoid reading him.

"Director Fury," a voice said from above. Tony gave in to the urge to smirk as he heard the click of heels coming down the stairs. Abby had come through! "What a pleasant surprise," the Director continued, though her empathic landscape was pissed, and stressed, with dashes of smugness and worry. "May I ask what brings you to our humble agency today?" She halted on the landing behind Tony's desk, forcing the others to continue to look up at her. It was a fabulous power move.

"I just need to talk to a few of your people," Fury said neutrally.

"I see. And does this involve NCIS business or an active case?" the Director asked, though she clearly knew the answer was 'no.'

"Let's just say that it's a matter of national security," Fury smirked.

"Well, then I'm sure you'd prefer to speak in a more secure location," the Director said without missing a beat. "If you'll follow me, I'll escort you to our Multiple Threat Assessment Center, where you can brief them and me."

"I'm not at liberty to share the details with people who aren't in the know, Ma'am." Fury said politely.

"Since my clearance level is higher than that of my agents, I don't see how you could possibly need to speak to them about something you couldn't discuss in my presence," she replied, and Tony could picture her razor-sharp smile that was completely belayed by the smugness in her tone.

"I'm afraid that isn't the case in this instance," Fury said.

"Well now, it strikes me that the only reason you could talk to a lowly Special Agent about something, but not his Agency Director would be if you were playing by a different secrecy act," Tony decided to have a little of his own fun. "Like, say, the Sentinel and Guide Act. Provided that the Agent was a sentinel or guide, of course. And what do you know! Boss, aren't we a sentinel and guide?"

"Just so happens we are, DiNozzo," Gibbs smirked. "Seems to me, if you wanted to discuss something with a sentinel and guide, your best bet would be to make arrangements through their local Center, instead of interrupting them at work."

"For exactly those privacy concerns, if memory serves," Tony added, nodding at Gibbs.

"Yup."

The Director's emotional pulse was purely smug satisfaction now. "So, Director Fury, shall I escort you to MTAC so you can brief me, or should I have my assistant get you the address for the local Sentinel and Guide Center?"

Fury smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes — well, eye. "I guess we'll have to do this the hard way, then," he said.

"Oh, it isn't hard," Tony deliberately misunderstood. "You just type in the Center into your phone's map program. I could show you how, if you need. I know not everyone's up on the latest technology."

McGee's muffled snort of amusement almost covered the quiet one made by Fury's right hand man. His female agent, however, was almost as annoyed as the Director had been, and was particularly unimpressed by Tony.

"Well, I guess we'll be on our way then," Fury said.

"Let me know if there's anything NCIS can do for you in the future, Director Fury," the Director said icily.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll be seeing one of your agents sooner rather than later," Fury said over his shoulder as he left. The way his second gave Tony a once-over before following said exactly who they intended to hunt down.

Once the elevator door had closed, Tony let out a sigh.

"You're welcome, Jen," Gibbs said, before sitting back at his desk.

"Excuse me?" The Director asked, her tone only slightly less frosty than when she had addressed Fury, though genuine confusion lanced through her empathic surface.

"I know you wanted to sharpen your claws on someone about this mess," Gibbs smirked. "And there you go."

"Well, as fun as that was," and her vocal tone told Gibbs exactly how wrong he was, even if her empathic one was now amused, "I'd rather not have to get into verbal spats with other agency Directors in the middle of the bullpen. I'd happily trade that to have a functioning MCRT."

"You say so," Gibbs shrugged, and returned to his computer. Tony did the same, texting a quick heads up at Jae and Emily about his visitor. If Fury didn't head to the Center next, he'd eat his Mighty Mouse stapler.

Tony was a little surprised that the Director had been on his side, but perhaps it was more accurate to say that she had just been on NCIS's side, or on the side against Director Fury. Director Shepard hadn't been thrilled with Tony since she joined NCIS.

Apparently, she had heard of his undercover capabilities, and was counting on using them in several large ops. Finding out that he wasn't allowed to go undercover anymore had infuriated her. She also wasn't thrilled to have an employee that required the extra pay and benefits of a guide, without getting the full abilities in the field that she was paying for.

If it were up to Tony, he wouldn't have asked for the promotion in the first place. It was Gibbs and Blair who had gone behind his back to the then-Director, Tom Morrow, to arrange things. Normally, as a shaman, they would have had to pay through the nose to keep him. But since he didn't have full access to his gifts, they had compromised by marking him as a regular guide.

After another long talk with Blair about the descrimination that some guides and sentinels faced in the workplace, and attending a few support groups, Tony found that the upheaval he had faced was more common than he thought. He had been lucky that his first few weeks back had been under Director Morrow. Even when Director Shepard took over, her anger at him couldn't compare to what some other guides and sentinels faced, so Tony did his best to ignore it. Now, though, he wasn't sure how long it would take for her anger at Fury to shift to blaming Tony for yet another disruption to how she wanted her agency to run.

At lunch that day, Tony received a phone call from Emily, letting him know that Steve had politely thanked Fury for finding him and turning him over to the Center where he could receive proper care, before declining his offer to join SHIELD.

Apparently, he'd done it with the smuggest, biggest, shit-eating grin, and it had nearly given Fury's male shadow a heart attack.

Even the lure of the Howling Commandos' legacy, or the chance to work with Peggy or Morita's grandkids hadn't been enough to change Steve's mind, and he'd eventually politely excused himself from the conversation by pulling on his leather jacket and asking if they could have Sonic for lunch.

Fury's shadow had almost had a heart attack at such signs that the Captain America was a red blooded sentinel and not a breathing Statue of Liberty. Tony didn't think he could be prouder. Steve had only been in this century for three and a half weeks and he was already trolling the shit out of people. Tony might just cry.

After the heads up from Emily, Tony thought that would be it for the day. He had no idea how fast Fury could move.

Tony and Kate were heading out to re-interview a suspect in the cold case she was working on when Tony got a call from an unknown number on his personal cell. "Special Agent DiNozzo," he answered.

"Tony, it's Tony. Turn on a TV right now," Stark said seriously.

Tony glanced at Gibbs, who of course had been able to hear as well, despite still being several yards away at his desk. "Boss?"

"Do it," Gibbs agreed, as Tony tugged Kate's arm and turned around to head back to the bullpen. "McGee! Pull up the news!"

McGee, for once, didn't ask questions, but merely pulled up ZNN on the plasma.

"Oh, damn," Tony breathed quietly. "You know, if Blair hadn't already forbidden me from going undercover a year ago, I'd be really fucking pissed off right now," he said, totally ignoring the rage that was racing through his veins. Gibbs, able to hear him, just growled.

Because there, on the TV, was Fury's shadow, giving a press conference on the steps of the Capitol, with giant headshots of Tony and Steve beside him. ZNN's news ticker led with "Captain America, ALIVE?!?!" in the larger space, and "Sentinel Steve Rogers bonded to modern Guide... Federal Agent Anthony DiNozzo… A love that transcends time?" looping across the bottom.

As always, Tony's focus was pulled to the most inane things. "You know, even when they're outing my name and face, they still can't bother to specify which Federal Agency I work for," he mused. "Is NCIS that hard to spell? It's only four letters!"

"Tony," Kate's voice was full of sorrow as she put a hand on his arm. Tony was expecting a headslap from Gibbs, honestly, but instead he felt a strong hand shoving his own up to the side of his head. He realized that he still had his phone on and in said hand when Stark's voice cut through his shock.

"And now you've seen it," Stark concluded.

"He works fast: I'll give him that," Tony replied. "Got any ideas?"

"A few," and Tony could hear the anger echoing in his tone. "Look, do you mind if I put my people on this? We'll handle everything for you. I don't think I'm speaking out of turn when I say I assume a recently MIA soldier and an NCIS agent probably don't have a publicist or PR department on retainer."

Tony appreciated the gesture of calling him an NCIS agent almost as much as he appreciated the offer. "I'd love to take you up on that, Stark. Can you coordinate with the Center?"

"Pep's already on it," he assured him.

"Great, thanks," Tony hung up absently, aware that Abby had appeared beside him at some point. She immediately looped her arm through his once his phone was back in his pocket.

"I take it you weren't expecting this after today's visit?" a strident voice asked.

Tony looked up and saw the Director standing on the lower landing again. God, this was the last thing he needed, with how much she already didn't like him. "No ma'am," he told her honestly. "Maybe a few weeks — or hopefully months — from now, but I really didn't expect him to be quite this…"

"Vindictive," Abby said coldly when he faltered.

"Yeah, that."

"I see," unlike earlier, when she had felt several different emotions simultaneously, right now the only thing Tony could sense from the director was cold fury. Which was ironic, when you thought about it, given the name of their opponent.

He should call Blair and have him reassess his opinion of Fury: he wasn't just bad at making friends. He was great at making enemies. "Blair; someone should tell him," Tony realized.

"Jae called me," Abby said, squeezing Tony's arm. He hadn't realized until that moment that Kate still had a grip on his other one. "If the Center knows, then Blair and Jim do too." They should know to give Walsh and Herrera a heads up too, he realized.

"Good," Tony felt like he was trying to think through sludge. He had so many thoughts racing through his brain, and several emotions fighting to break through the shock. He almost felt like he was back on the suppression drugs, or like he was being buffered… Tony glanced at Abby inquiringly.

"I didn't want you to destroy the bullpen," she admitted quietly. Tony huffed, but didn't disagree with her caution.

"Maybe dial it back a little?" he suggested. "It's like thinking through molasses right now."

Abby smirked and Tony felt her buffer recede. Slowly, his emotions became stronger, but he'd already plugged the opening in his glacial shields. Apparently, someone trying to get at him through his sentinel could make them falter: Tony made a mental note to shore up the place where he connected to Steve when he had time.

With his shields back to full strength, Tony was no longer being bombarded by the surprise, confusion, anger, and disbelief from his coworkers. Idly, Tony wondered if Gibbs had already tipped the Director off about Steve, or if her anger was just overpowering her surprise and curiosity. She was the only one who wasn't a mass of conflicting feelings.

With everyone else's emotions tightly locked out, and his own firmly contained within, Tony took a moment to sort out his internal melee. The most clear were anger, betrayal, shock, relief centered around Stark's offer, and guilt. Tony imagined a multi-compartment trunk like from Harry Potter and shoved each emotion inside it's own compartment, save for the rage.

Tony had learned during his initial training that, for a guide, their visualizations in the psionic realm had empathic and physical effects. By imagining himself locking away those emotions, he was literally locking them away until he was ready to deal with them.

Now, Tony pictured a handheld welding torch, and fed all of his rage into it. Then, he twisted the dial, until the flame shifted from a bright red to a cool purple blue. The beam was a focused, cold fire, just like he needed his fury to be.

Armed with his now tightly controlled emotions, Tony shifted his attention back to the real world. Abby and Kate were still bracketing him, holding his hands, and Gibbs was a solid presence at his back, speaking to someone on the phone. The Director was looking down on them sourly, and McGee was typing away on his computer.

"Probie?" Tony asked firmly.

"It's on every network, Tony," McGee reported quickly. "It looks like they started about five minutes before you got the call. They must have had something prepared in advance, because social media sites are blowing up. The first posts that started the hashtags trending look like they were created by suspiciously new accounts boosted too quickly to be anything but a botnet."

Tony understood only half of the words, but the meaning got through. "So they had their own hackers ready to go the moment they needed them."

"Pretty much. They've got international contacts too: this went live on the biggest news sites in Britain, Scandinavia, Germany, India, Canada, Brazil, Mexico, China, and Japan, from what I can see," McGee's fingers flew wildly across the keys, and Tony sensed awe tinging his anger. "Maybe more. Social media in those countries also seems to have taken off near-instantly, just like here."

"So, Fury decided that if we weren't going to march to his tune he'd nuke our lives," Tony said coldly. "Is there any way that he could have made his decision and put all of this in motion since lunch without prior planning?"

"It would take a hell of a lot of international contacts," Kate said, "not just to get them to pick up the story from ZNN but to clear the airwaves for their own breaking news coverage before the press conference started? That takes reach." Since Kate had worked more than one presidential press conference, Tony figured she knew what she was talking about.

"Most of these social media bots were created in the last week, Tony," McGee reported. "They each made a handful of posts to establish their identities. There's a chance they were created for a different purpose and then commandeered for this, but it's unlikely."

"So he was already planning to out you before he walked in here today," Abby growled.

"Oh, I think he was hoping we'd say yes; threatening to expose us would just be a little incentive if we balked," Tony gritted out. "His female agent thought I was an idiot and wasn't too impressed with the Director here, so I think she knew about the contingency plans. The male one… from what little I got from him and what Emily told me, I think he had a thing for Steve."

"Like a crush on him?" Kate scoffed.

"Probably more of a hero worship," Tony allowed. "He was apparently shocked and appalled when Steve was a punk instead of a paragon of patriotic virtue that bled red, white, and blue."

On the news, the press conference had ended, and the anchors had been talking over a large frame with his and Steve's side-by-side pictures. Suddenly, they cut to a different press conference setup.

Kate grabbed the remote and turned it up.

"—That's right, in an unprecedented move, a second press conference has been called, this time at the Stark Industries Corporate Headquarters in New York," the female announcer was saying. "We are unsure of the connection between Stark Industries and this breaking situation, but their announcement assured us that the two are closely linked—"

She cut off as Tony Stark and a fierce looking redhead approached the podium. The ticker quickly shifted to label them as "Tony Stark aka Iron Man and Pepper Potts" and he realized that this was the Pepper that Tony had frequently mentioned. Now that he saw her, he recognized her face from other press conferences and things over the years, but he hadn't made the connection earlier. In his defense, he'd been a bit distracted the last few weeks.

"At this time, Mister Stark will be giving a short prepared statement and then taking your questions," Pepper said haughtily. "He will be addressing the revelations this afternoon from SHIELD, and not Stark Industries or his work as Iron Man. Questions about the latter will be ignored."

"Or mocked; depends on my mood," Stark said as she stepped aside. Tony caught the flicker of motion that spoke to her restraining herself from rolling her eyes. Tony could relate.

"Alright," Stark removed a small stack of index cards from the breast pocket of his expensive and perfectly tailored dark grey three piece suit. Tony noted that he was wearing a blue shirt and tie that made him look very respectable. "We know I do so well with prepared speeches, but here goes," he muttered, before taking a deep breath and launching into it.

"Some of you may know this, but my father, Howard Stark, was one of the founders of SHIELD. Technically, it wasn't called that back then, but I'm told that Aunt Peggy picked the eventual name. Of course, during the war, they weren't as concerned with naming things: Dad and Aunt Peggy worked closely with the American Army, and particularly with Doctor Erskine — the man was a genius, a Guide, and a great judge of character. He's the one who took the man, Steve Rogers, and turned him into Captain America."

"Or, as Aunt Peggy used to say, he gave Steve a body strong enough to finally hold the man within. She and Dad knew Steve before he became the Captain, you see, and they told some pretty funny stories—" Pepper gently nudged Stark's shoulder, and he glanced at her.

"Right! The notes!" He looked down and shuffled them quickly before resuming. "Dad and Aunt Peggy didn't just work with Rogers. There was a whole unit, called the Howling Commandos, that Rogers led. Uniforms, weapons, protective gear, whatever they needed, Dad and Aunt Peggy provided. Some people might ask, 'why this group?' 'Why these soldiers out of all the units in Europe?'"

"And the answer wasn't 'because they were led by Captain America.' The answer was, 'because they were led by Steve Rogers.' Captain America was a publicity stunt to sell war bonds. Steve Rogers was a genuine American hero who single-handedly freed over a hundred POWs, and with his unit demolished a dozen Nazi factories and bunkers, saving thousands of soldiers and civilian lives across Europe. And when the time came, Steve Rogers gave his own life to protect the citizens of New York."

"Then what happens? A miracle? Doctor Erskine's work meant that, when Rogers' body — which my dad searched for for decades — was finally found, the man was still alive. Another chapter in the legend that is Captain America, right? Wrong."

Stark dropped the cards on the podium and glared out at the cameras. "In the 1940s, America and her allies were at war, and Steve Rogers and his friends did their duty by fighting our enemies, Sentinel Barnes and Sentinel Rogers did more than their duty — they laid down their very lives to protect their tribe. And how did America repay them?"

"When he was revived, Steve Rogers asked one thing of his country. He didn't ask for money, or recognition, or a mansion in paradise, or to be promoted to a five-star General. Hell, I would have asked for all four of those things." Behind him, Pepper gave half a nod before catching herself, though a hint of her smirk remained.

"No, the one thing that Sentinel Steve Rogers asked for, was the chance to quietly live with his Guide. He didn't refuse to protect the tribe if danger arose again — he has been working closely with the Sentinel and Guide Council — and his guide is a Federal Agent. They didn't even take an exorbitantly long bonding leave: his guide is already back at work, and they were talking about how they could best serve the tribe together. Is this world ready for Federal Agent Steve Rogers? We may never know, now."

"That's what Steve Rogers asked for. He asked for time to adjust to this century, and to figure out how he and his guide could best serve a tribe that wasn't at war. He asked to see those of his friends who were still alive, and meet the families of those who had passed, and he asked to live a quiet, peaceful life out of the limelight."

"Now I put it to you, is that too much to ask? I met Rogers and his Guide, Tony — he has excellent taste in names, obviously — because of how close Rogers was to my father. They didn't ask to meet the head of Stark Industries, or Iron Man; Steve and Tony just wanted to get to know the son of Howard Stark. Someone who should have grown up with an Aunt Peggy and an Uncle Steve, if America hadn't needed one more sacrifice from a man who had already done more than any other single Allied soldier."

"And this man you just saw — Agent Coulson — under the orders of Director Fury of SHIELD — the organization that Steve's friends created — said, 'you know what?' Being allowed a little time to quietly adjust to this century is too much to ask. Being allowed to live as Steve Rogers instead of Captain America is too much to ask. Wanting to get to know your guide, and your extended family and your nephew Tony without being hounded by the press is too much to ask. What kind of monster makes that call?"

"Even in 1945, Steve Rogers didn't want publicity: he wanted to fight with his friends. My father thought his humility was disgustingly noble of him, but at the same time he appreciated it. We all know that Starks aren't exactly known for being humble. Now, in 2011, Steve Rogers again didn't ask to be a celebrity. His guide, Special Agent Tony, certainly didn't ask to have his career as an undercover specialist utterly shredded because of his partner's identity."

"And on that note, Agent Coulson, shame on you." Stark propped one elbow on the podium and waggled a finger at the camera. "Special Agent Tony was a police officer who served with distinction for years before joining NCIS, a federal agency that protects our Sailors and Marines. His ability to do his job unimpeded, and his talent for going undercover, saved the lives of our service members. At a great cost to himself, let me tell you: some of his stories are enough to make you prematurely gray." Stark shuddered expressively. "As a fellow federal agent, how dare you steal that from him, and by extension from our troops? How dare you try to shame them into giving even more for their country!"

"I asked to be publicly known as Iron Man. Steve and Tony didn't ask to be publicly outed as Captain America and his star spangled Guide. Yeah, that's right Buzzfeed, I saw the tweet—" Pepper nudged his shoulder again.

"Okay, you know— you know I suck with the cards," he murmured, half turning towards her in appeal, "where was I?"

"His condition," she replied, just loud enough for the microphones to pick up.

"Oh, right!" Stark scowled and turned back to face the camera squarely. "While you're asking Coulson and Fury about where the hell they get off siccing a three ring circus on a couple who has already given so much, why not ask some hard hitting questions: like exactly what kind of care they gave Rogers after they pulled him from the ice?"

"Or why the Sentinel and Guide Center had to rescue him from SHIELD's Manhattan Headquarters, with nary a sentinel trained doctor or a single guide in sight? I think the Geneva Convention would have some pretty strong words to say about that, and Steve wasn't even in enemy hands — or so he thought. How about the part where they were going to deny Lieutenant Colonel Rogers — an United States Army war veteran and Medal of Honor recipient — legal representation from JAG before questioning him?"

"My personal preference would be to ask them about the part of the story where they came this close to bond interference by attempting to keep Tony and the others from rescuing his sentinel after they found Steve. Maybe you can convince Fury to show you the footage where Special Agent Tony, undercover specialist that he is, bluffs the hell out of Fury to complete their rescue. I've watched my copy a dozen times, at least."

Another nudge from Pepper immediately brought Stark back on track, kind of.

"Now, if I wanted to make this about me, I'd ask about the proprietary Stark Industries technology that Fury illegally used in his hunt for Steve, but this isn't about me. Nor is it about Fury, for all that he's trying to hog all the glory by showing off how he found Steve with that Stark tech. Who knows? Maybe we could have found Steve earlier, if he'd followed basic kindergarten rules and shared ideas — especially with the Sentinel and Guide Council. But this isn't about that."

"This is about a veteran, and a hero, who already gave one life for this country, and asked for barely anything in return. This is about a federal agent who risked his life over and over to protect our service members and their families, who's only 'crime' is saying 'yes' to love, and supporting his sentinel. This is about their friends, family, and coworkers, who will now be damned by association. This is about all the people that they could have helped, before being outed by a self-righteous director of a shadowy organization that gives the CIA a good name. This is about my Uncle Steve, and his guide."

"And I ask, how would you feel if they were your uncles?" Stark took a step back from the podium, and even Pepper seemed to need a moment before she slipped into his place to begin the Q & A.

Tony let out a low whistle. "Damn! I know at least part of that was his writing team, but god can that man speak! I want to vote for him and he isn't even running for anything."

"Me too," Abby squeezed his hand.

"And he barely made it about himself. That's certainly not the man you see in most of the interviews." Kate agreed.

"And his team very cleverly laid out the exact line that NCIS can use in our own response," the Director said, her own white-hot fury ebbing. Tony realized that she had come down to join them where she could see the TV better. In fact, several teams were now crowded around the MCRT's bullpen.

"Agent DiNozzo?" she asked.

"Ma'am?"

"Is it true that you considered bringing Sentinel Rogers into the Agency?" she asked neutrally. Tony sensed genuine curiosity from her.

This probably wasn't the time to bring up how little she had wanted semi-shaman Tony in the Agency, he thought absently. He quickly schooled his emotions and expression, lest he give her a hint how he felt about her hypocrisy.

"We talked about it, Ma'am, but hadn't made a firm decision. Steve did want to make sure that he really understood this century before he tried to go around enforcing the law or anything. We were looking at a timescale of months, not days, but he did like the idea of giving back to the service. His preference would be for the army or something veteran specific, of course, since he's a ground pounder, but he also clicked with Gibbs, so we outnumbered him," he concluded with a small smirk. Beside him, Abby chuckled. "And he liked Abby and Ducky and the team, so he wouldn't have been amongst strangers."

Tony sensed the surprise and awe race through his coworkers, and he didn't blame them. The idea that some of their coworkers knew Steve was shocking. The idea that they could have worked alongside the Captain America was astounding. Part of Tony hated to burst their bubble, but he had to point out the obvious.

"Of course, now, I don't see how we could work any kind of regular job. I'd try to interview a witness and be asked dozens of questions about my own life. We'd also make a target of any team we were on. Something that the Sentinel and Guide Council was concerned about was the way Captain America represents the country. An attack on him could be seen as a victory against the United States."

"The MCRT already gets our share of vengeance cases because we're doing our jobs well; Steve and I wouldn't want to endanger a team by painting a giant flag-shaped target on their backs." In some ways, a distant part of Tony's mind could now appreciate the grief counseling he had endured after he came online as a shaman. Having already come to terms with losing his ability to go undercover, and prepared for the idea that he might change careers after fully onlining and potentially meeting his sentinel, this was nothing. The pain he felt now at probably losing his field status, and potentially even leaving NCIS, paled in comparison to his anger at Fury.

"I understand your reasoning, and I appreciate the thought you put into your future at this agency," the Director said. Tony could sense that, while she was frustrated, she meant that. Again, given their history, he was surprised. "I believe I speak for all of NCIS when I say that it would be a shame to lose an agent of your caliber. Unfortunately, I have to agree with your assessment that, at the moment, with your faces plastered all over the news, it would be extremely hard for you to be a field agent."

"Yes, ma'am," Tony agreed, leaving everything else unsaid. He would talk about everything later with Abby and Gibbs, as both friends who understood the S&G perspective, and as people who knew the Director. Once he had their take on the situation, he'd see how he felt.

On the TV, the Q&A session wrapped up quickly, and Stark did have to refuse to answer a question about Iron Man, though instead of mocking the reporter he just sneered as Pepper icily told them off. Once it was done, Pepper ushered Stark off the stage, and the picture again returned to the newscasters.

Tony was pleased to note that this time, the camera was showing the duo speaking, instead of his and Steve's faces again. It seemed that someone was already taking Stark's comments about their privacy to heart. It was far too little, too late, but it was better than nothing.

Chapter Text

With all the furor, the Director and Gibbs both agreed that Tony was going to have to be semi-benched. He could still work the case, but he clearly couldn't go out in the field. Unlike his typical experiences with desk duty, when he could still make phone calls and participate in interrogations, he was to have no contact with the public. Even his usual contacts with Metro PD or other agencies was considered 'public' in this instance. Given the size of the crowd that Security said was gathered outside the gates to the Navy Yard, Tony wasn't exactly going to argue.

Instead, he was relegated to the most boring bits: computer searches that the probie could do twice as fast. Finally, in frustration, Tony headed down to Abby's lab. In addition to the soothing presence of his fellow guide, it got him away from all the stares in the bullpen. Since he wasn't useful on the case anyway, Gibbs didn't complain when he stalked off. At least he could use his laptop to catch up on the end of month SFA paperwork that was almost due.

Of course, hiding with Abby didn't actually stop the staring. People just started seeking him out in the labs — in fact, back upstairs, the presence of Gibbs sitting a few feet away, ready to rip someone's head off, had probably helped Tony more than he realized.

Fortunately, it seemed that most of his coworkers had taken Stark's words to heart, or were just generally less awe-struck of Tony since they knew him as a person. Most people just stopped in for a moment or two to congratulate him on his bonding and to commiserate about the media. Several people had questions about what Tony Stark was actually like.

For the most part, questions about Steve were polite, and tended towards clarification about him being frozen and the "Did he really…" side of things. Generally, Tony could sum them up with a handful of answers:

Yes, Steve was really as hot as his old pictures.
Yes, Steve had actually fought in the war.
No, Steve hadn't actually punched the real Hitler in the face.
No, Steve hadn't aged into an old man.
Yes, Captain America was a stage name; Steve really was a Lieutenant Colonel.

Tony was thinking of printing them out on little business cards to just hand out to everyone who approached him. Abby, in her compassionate, sisterly, way, had offered to do the printing while giggling maddly at his pain.

There had also been a decent amount of ribbing from the agents that Tony knew the best, like Rocky, — on crutches, but back at work — Cassie, Tina, and the like. He needed a second 'Frequently Asked Questions' card for them:

Yes, Tony intended to introduce them eventually.
Yes, Steve had super strength, senses, and stamina, even beyond a typical sentinel.
Yes, he and Steve had bonded.
Yes, the sex was even more mind blowing than they were probably picturing.
No, Tony wouldn't give them any more details.

As the afternoon wore on, Tony realized he was incredibly lucky to have such good coworkers. There were probably a few who weren't on board with his bonding, but they hadn't sought him out. Those who had approached him had, to a one, expressed some kind of disgust at the way that Tony's name and picture had been revealed, severely hampering his ability to do his job. Some expressed similar thoughts regarding Steve, but that wasn't as universal, since he was a celebrity beforehand.

The general acceptance from his coworkers had done a little to soothe Tony's anger and frustration, and he knew that many other guides in his position would have had it far worse. He did have to stop checking his email, though, as he was getting dozens of emails from what seemed like every cop and agent he knew who wasn't already at the Yard.

As much as Tony appreciated their near-universal support, it was also overwhelming and a reminder of how utterly exposed he now was. Fielding messages from the few who knew his cell number and sent him texts was enough to handle, for the moment.

Tony was also getting regular text updates from both McGee and Garcia, as they tracked social media, poll sites and the general pulse of the coverage. Abby did her part as well. At two hours after the joint press conferences, a slight majority of the public thought that SHIELD shouldn't have released any information. The rest were split fairly evenly between thinking SHIELD should have released some information without leaking Tony's name and picture, or thinking that SHIELD had done nothing wrong.

In addition to the hashtags that SHIELD had sent trending (#CaptainAmerica, #CapLives, and #SHIELDracle, which was just offensive self-promotion, knowing it had come from their own botnet), two new ones had gained almost as much traction: #AmericasUncles and #SHIELDsucks. The first was a direct call to Stark's speech, and Tony wasn't sure how he felt about being an 'uncle' to someone two years older than him. Regardless, both were vehemently pro-Steve and Tony.

Those pushing back against the #SHIELDsucks hate with #IStandWithSHIELD were a small but vocal minority that seemed to be mostly composed of far Right politicians and SHIELD's bot network. Tony's team of geeks dismissed them as a flash in the pan that would burn out against the larger movements once they realized they were on the losing side.

#Vets4Cap was also gaining steady ground, alongside several impassioned tweets and soundbites from World War Two vets or their families who attributed Steve as having saved their life back in the day. According to Tony's favorite geeks, NCIS had also been googled more times today than in the last two years combined. Their little Agency was finally getting the recognition it deserved, just at much too high a cost.

Unfortunately, that cost wasn't only being paid by Tony: things hadn't gone very well today for his team or the others with active cases. Since everyone now knew about NCIS, they had gotten their share of questions while they attempted to do their jobs. Even though the case wasn't solved, Gibbs had sent them all home at five with a frustrated growl, as he stomped off to talk to the Director.

Tony had engaged in a little subterfuge, courtesy of Abby, Ducky, and Jimmy, and been snuck out of the autopsy ambulance bay into the back of Abby's hearse. It allowed him to bypass the crowds at the Navy Yard's gates, and he managed to make it to the DC Center unscathed. Of course, there was a decent sized mob there as well, but a handful of hulking sentinels were guarding the doors.

Abby was able to pull right to the curb with her hearse, and Tony slipped out the back, ducking behind the Sentinel guards before the mob could realize it was him. Abby had sped off again by the time Tony reached the doors. Once inside the Center, Tony found it was busier than he'd ever seen it.

Fortunately, Abby had called in advance, and Marius was waiting right inside the doors for Tony, quickly dragging him past the newly beefed up security checkpoint. "I'd ask how your day's been, man, but I'm sure I already know the answer," Marius said cheerfully. In all their association, Tony had learned that almost nothing kept Marius down for long. He had an enviable inner calmness usually associated with guides, and the ability to roll with most things without losing his cool. It was part of what made him so effective at leading the region's tribes.

"It looks like yours hasn't exactly been quiet either," Tony said, encompassing the crowded halls with a broad wave.

Marius snorted. "Yeah, we've had our own share of lookie loos. We can keep mundanes out, of course, but it's hard to deny our own guides and sentinels: especially when they've got decent excuses. It isn't like the guys at the front are gonna leave a guide to fend for himself against that gang."

"I figured there'd be a few reporters or journalists who were also our kind…" Tony mused.

Marius's grin turned predatory, reminding Tony of his wolverine spirit animal — which Tony didn't hold against him, since he wasn't a Michigan fan. "Oh, there are. However, all devices capable of audio or image recording are being confiscated at the moment, for security reasons. You won't have to worry about grainy cell phone videos around corners, selfies, or ambush interviews while you're here. A lot of them left after they heard that, though most seem content just to get eyes on you two, even without being able to bring home proof."

"Wonderful," Tony sighed. He didn't know why he expected better from the sentinels and guides around town — they were human, after all, — but his experience of supportive nosiness from his coworkers had spoiled him.

"Yulia swung by your place after the news broke, and she said that someone — probably SHIELD — leaked your address, so it's just as much of a madhouse," Marius added sympathetically. "She grabbed the stuff on your emergency list, so it's here in a suite with Steve."

Not for the first time in the past few weeks, Tony felt his heart swell with gratitude for his friends among the sentinel and guide community. Jae, Marius, Emily, and Yulia had done so much for him and Steve, and so had those he didn't know as well, like Blair, Jim, George, and Aria. Even the Petty Officer with the otter familiar, Brian Davis, had become a friendly acquaintance since Tony's initial kidnapping.

He'd even finally found out why that night had been such a clusterfuck, with Marius and Jae forwarding the details during Tony and Steve's bonding week. The emergency response squad had been new — two trainees who were supposed to have an experienced trainer with them at all times. The trainer had called out sick, and instead of passing on the message and requesting one of the other available trainers to step in, the newbies thought they knew enough to handle things on their own.

The small, vicious part of Tony that he drew on to create characters like DeMarco was pleased to learn that they'd both been fired, and had official warnings in their Center files. If they tried to apply for any job in town, the Center would be legally obligated to reveal their idiocy when asked for their reference.

The on call guide, on the other hand, was a different matter. He had a thing against shamans, which he had somehow managed to hide beneath some truly impressive internal shields. He'd been a recent transfer from the Kansas City Center, which had no shaman in their region. The doc had managed to avoid being around Emily thus far, but seeing Tony's ID bracelet and file had set him off. It was purely Tony's bad luck that that jerk had been on call that night.

Either incident alone would have been frustrating for Tony, but had he gotten competent care from the other half, it wouldn't have been a big deal. A competent on call guide would have immediately reversed the damage done by the idiot emergency crew instead of making things worse. On the other hand, if Tony hadn't been sedated and helpless upon arrival, the on-call guide wouldn't have been able to continue to drug him.

Because of the two incidents, however, Jae and Marius had launched a spring cleaning, as they called it. The files of everyone who worked or volunteered for the Center were being reviewed, and each sentinel and guide had been called in for a meeting and a thorough going over by the alpha or beta pair. Once they'd cleaned house, Jae had mentioned offhand to Tony, they were going to spend the next few weeks reaching out to every sentinel and guide in DC, to make sure that they were aware of the changes, and to solicit any negative experiences with the Center so they could continue to make things right.

With the way the place was bursting at the seams today, Tony wondered if a little of that outreach wasn't already going to happen. If people were already here, their leaders might as well touch base with them and get their pulse on the community.

Frankly, though, at the moment Tony didn't really care about the wider sentinel and guide community of DC, such as it were. If they were in here making nuisances of themselves, they could go right in the same category as all the press outside the gates. Not as bad as SHIELD, but no one he wanted to have to deal with.

Tony sighed with relief as he and Marius passed through the inner security doors and out of the public areas of the Center. Sentinels and guides could get back here, of course, but not without a damn good reason. The public area held a few meeting rooms, meditation spaces, public offices, and the like. The private side held the medical suites, bonding suites, private offices, and such.

In Tony's experience, both were fairly calm, with maybe twice as many sentinels and guides in the public space as in the private. Right now, there was a huge difference between the few dozen people in the outer corridors and the three — two of whom he knew — between Tony and the suite he currently shared with Steve. Petty Officer Davis was even on duty, guarding their door, and Tony exchanged a friendly greeting with him before going inside.

It was a dignitaries' suite, Tony had learned when they'd drawn up the reveal contingency plans. Because DC was, well, DC, it was frequently visited by dignitaries from other countries. Though many hotels claimed to be sentinel and guide friendly — some prided themselves on it! — it wasn't always the case, and mistakes did happen. Because of incidents like that, the Center also had a suite for such dignitaries — three of them, in fact.

Like a bonding suite, but more luxurious, and with a sitting room and separate bedroom, it allowed for meetings, yet privacy. It was also much nicer than the bare bones bonding suites, where too many textures or smells could upset an edgy sentinel, and the couple tended not to care about the decor anyway.

At the moment, as per their reveal contingency plans, it was all Tony and Steve's. Inside, Tony found Jae, Emily, and Yulia waiting, as well as Walsh and Herrera. Tony only had eyes for Steve, though, and he felt a great weight falling from his shoulders at the sight of his sentinel. Tony had been determined to return to work, and confident that his shields were steady enough for him to do so without Steve at his side, but he still missed his partner. And after the insane day he'd had, he reveled in the rush of his Sentinel filling his empathic senses.

As Marius slid into the empty chair beside his guide, Tony plopped onto the loveseat with Steve and gave him a quick kiss. In theory, they could have sat side by side, but Steve was just so bulky that it was easier for Tony to slide half on his lap, throwing his legs across Steve's knees. Steve's hand immediately went to the back of Tony's neck, massaging at the tension there. Tony groaned quietly and let his head fall forward as familiar, strong fingers kneaded his aching muscles.

"What's our status?" he asked, once he could think a little more clearly.

"Stark's PR and legal teams have both been coordinating with the Center and SecArm," Jae said, with a nod at the Army duo who they had continued to work with, reaching a friendly, first-name status. Like most of the others, anger laced through his emotional tone, and Tony could also hear it in his voice.

"SecNav and SecDef were pulled in too," Ramón chimed in, "on account of you being NCIS, and they're both on our side. Tony's earlier insight that pretty much all of the armed forces tend to 'claim' Steve was spot on, because SecAF, the Coast Guard and Marine Corps Commandants, and the National Guard Brass all jumped on the bandwagon. They and the Joint Chiefs basically ganged together on the matter against Fury."

"Apparently Fury answers directly to the President, who wasn't thrilled when the Joint Chiefs threw a collective fit over this information being released. It seems President McKenna gave Fury some kind of carte blanche to handle the rescue and revival of Steve once they reported finding his body, and hadn't heard from him since."

"The President had no idea that the Joint Chiefs or Sentinel and Guide Council were even involved, or so justifiably pissed off. JAG hasn't been idle either, and your Admiral Chegwidden and my General Harrison have also been making their displeasure known. According to Jim and Blair, McKenna's been in ass-covering mode since the news broke, and isn't happy to find he's got more opponents than supporters on this matter."

"VP Ellis has been trying to cover his own six by pointing out that he also didn't know what Fury was up to, and siding with the Joint Chiefs. Once Stark got involved, McKenna basically threw in the towel and promised you two whatever support you want. He also wants Fury's head on a platter for putting him in this position," Ramón concluded.

On an ordinary day, Tony might have felt a little bad that the President had been blindsided too, but right now he didn't much care for the person who had given Fury free reign and then never checked back in with him. A little accountability still might not have been able to prevent today's clusterfuck, but Tony wasn't in the mood to feel generous about it. He might have resigned himself to being mostly unable to go undercover again, though that restriction was supposed to have been lifted once he became a normal guide. However, Tony had not resigned himself to his entire life blowing up like this.

"Fury's people have been giving 'no comment' answers when asked about Stark's allegations," Emily added. "Stark and Potts turned over some kind of documentation regarding what he said about the war, early SHIELD and Doctor Erskine. Nobody's really questioning that part anymore, and the general consensus is that if anyone outside of SHIELD would know, it would be the son of Howard Stark and godson of Peggy Carter. Other than one or two conspiracy theorist nuts, no one doubts that he met with you two, and general consensus is that you allowed him to speak on your behalf."

Tony nodded. That was the truth, so it was good that they weren't going to have to fight accusations that Stark was lying about knowing them. He'd done them a huge favor today, and Tony didn't want that repaid with unfounded accusations.

"The Army released their own documentation as well," Shane said. "Because we knew about Steve's revival in advance, we were able to get all our ducks in a row before this hit. Like everyone, we could have used a little more time, but we weren't entirely blindsided. The Army has released the proof of Steve's enlistment, rank, MIA status, and posthumous awards and promotion."

"Stark mentioned it, but we had already prepared a press release on the difference between Steve's rank and his stage name, so that got pushed out as well, to help clarify things. The Brass also cherry-picked a few of the Howling Commandos' ops to declassify. Stuff that shows Steve and the others in a good light, or the great things they did, without revealing SHIELD or Army secrets," Shane explained.

His partner piped up again. "Legally, the Army had already updated Steve's status from MIA, and arranged for his back pay compensation and benefits, so the Army isn't taking any heat in this. We're actually ahead of the curve," Ramón joked.

"While you were on your way here, the Joint Chiefs released a statement," Shane took back over the sitrep, "basically saying that of course the military was proud to have such a national icon recovered, but that he should be treated with the respect due to any Veteran, including respecting his privacy."

"SecNav and the Naval and Marine Joint Chiefs chipped in their own two cents about what wonderful work NCIS does, and your team in particular, Tony, and how it would be a damn shame — and all Fury's fault — if even one service member or their family suffered because NCIS was unable to do their jobs after being dragged into this three-ring circus."

"So basically everyone important is on our side, or at least, not on SHIELD's side," Tony summarized, as he heard someone entering the suite behind him. "And last I heard, public opinion was about 50-50 but leaning towards us."

"Not exactly, Sugar." Tony's head whipped up in surprise, dislodging Steve's hand from his neck. Instead of Abby or Gibbs, as he had expected, Garcia and her sentinel, Derek Morgan, were standing there. He'd introduced them to Steve when the couple had come around for dinner last week. Now, they drew up the last two chairs from the dining table in the suite.

"FBI's officially been tagged with your protection," Derek explained as he sat. "Agent Fornell's handling it, but since my Baby Doll is the best analyst we've got, and miles ahead of the next best one who's also a guide or sentinel, we've been temporarily loaned to his task force by the BAU."

Well, that certainly explained their presence, and also why Jae and Marius were completely unsurprised to see them, Tony decided. They'd probably coordinated all that stuff. "Spiffy. You said my information was wrong, Hot Stuff?" he'd gotten it from Garcia and McGee in the first place, but it had been over an hour since he talked to them, so it wasn't entirely surprising he was behind the times now.

Garcia nodded even as she pulled her laptop out of her bag. "Well, word around the water cooler is that Fury lost his protection from on high—"

"True," Jae confirmed. They had just talked about McKenna pulling his support.

"— And so, just at the start of the five o'clock news cycle, he released a statement to the press," Garcia concluded.

Tony groaned and let his head fall onto Steve's shoulder. Steve ran a soothing hand up and down his back.

Undeterred, Garcia continued. "Basically, Fury chided Tony Stark for making it about himself, threw out a not very subtle jab about how if Stark cared about the troops, he should still be arming them, and then mentioned Steve's USO show as proof that he wouldn't mind being in the spotlight, and that Stark's butting in where he isn't needed or wanted."

"From the way Fury phrased things, some people have drawn the conclusion that he's trying to make Tony — our Tony — out to be the bad guy. We think he's trying to reframe the SHIELD breakout as a kidnapping, and the next logical conclusion is that Tony is controlling Steve somehow."

"Ah yes, through my evil Guide mind powers," Tony snarked.

"Or the power of boners," Garcia shrugged with a smirk.

That pulled a laugh from Tony, even as her sentinel protested. "Baby Girl!" Garcia just patted his cheek with a saucy wink.

"So now people are blaming Tony and the Centers," Steve concluded, worry and a bit of amusement threading through their bond.

"Oh, they were… for about half a second," Garcia said smugly, "until someone — most likely suspect is currently Tony Stark — 'accidentally' leaked the surveillance video of Steve's entire time at SHIELD. Someone — again probably Stark — also released the SHIELD IDs of each employee on the video."

"It's clear from that, that the only four people who had contact with you included no sentinels or guides, nor anyone trained in sentinel medicine, just as Stark claimed in his press conference earlier. The short clip of just the rescue has been viewed almost a million times in the barely twenty minutes since it dropped on Youtube."

"Damn," Tony muttered, shocked. One of the others whistled in appreciation.

"Exactly," Garcia nodded sharply. "The five thirty and six o'clock news shows have been playing it on repeat, and there's a surge of anti-Fury and pro-you two sentiment. You know that spirit animals don't show up to mundanes, even on film, but everyone can still see, both from the internal and external cams, the moment when Tony's tossed those guards through the door. It's already been turned into a gif meme and has flooded Twitter."

Tony snorted at that, as did a few of the others. He should probably feel a bit guilty, but he really, really didn't.

"Anyway," she continued, "a few minutes after the videos came out, both Sandburg and Ellison and the International S & G Council released statements that basically condemned leaving a sentinel without proper treatment. The Council was a little more diplomatic — 'if the allegations are true' kind of wording — but the Alpha Primes were there, so they pulled no punches."

"The Council also made noises about the few sentinels and guides who are a part of SHIELD, along the lines of a) where they aware and did nothing, or b) were they deliberately sent away from the area, and c) are they safe in an organization that does such things to such a prominent sentinel and war hero."

"All valid questions, and something that Blair and Jim were already wondering about," Emily interjected. "At some point during that whole mess, Blair did a kind of empathic sweep of the building, trying to sense any sentinels or guides who might be nearby, and got zilch. We didn't know if any usually worked in the New York branch, but if so, they were conspicuously absent. We're hoping that Fury kept them at bay, because the alternative is that they were there and just ignored such high levels of Sentinel distress that it broke through the psionic shielding and flooded lower Manhattan," she concluded grimly.

And yeah, Tony was hoping that Fury had sent them away too, rather than face that kind of betrayal from fellow sentinels and guides.

Garcia nodded, clearly tucking that information away. "Finally, — for now — the U.N. Security Council and the International Criminal Court both released statements right away. They probably started working on them after Stark dropped the hint in his first press conference. Both of them commented on the Geneva Conventions section on sentinels and guides, and made a point that denying trained sentinel and guide medical staff and keeping mates completely isolated from each other are both breeches. Their tone heavily implied that Fury and SHIELD had done both — or would have done both if they'd succeeded in kicking Tony out — and could be charged for it."

"So what you're telling me is that we've basically started an international incident, and that we're even more in the spotlight now," Tony concluded, "but again, most of the big players are on our side?"

"It'd be more correct to say that Fury started the international incident," Derek pointed out.

"Your support amongst regular people has also gone up to almost a full two-thirds majority," Garcia added. "Fury has some diehard supporters, but most of the rest are from the 'He could have handled things better but isn't a literal demon' camp. Oddly enough, both sides are transcending political party lines. It's the far extremists on both sides who are defending him, with different slants, obviously."

Garcia hesitated for a second, then smirked again. "And, of course, the Capsicle and similar memes have been excellent. Steve's face superimposed on one of those red white and blue rocket popsicles is my favorite."

Tony burst out laughing at that. Stark had already called Steve a 'Capsicle' during their first meeting. Tony had, of course, shared that joke with his friends, and it had become a common nickname in their friendly banter. Even Steve thought it was funny.

"Okay, that's priceless," Jae declared, looking over her shoulder at her screen. When Tony beckoned, Garcia grinned and flipped her laptop around so they could all see the image she was talking about. The quiet laughter that broke the tension was exactly what they needed. Even Steve was smirking, though Tony wasn't surprised. His sentinel had a much better sense of humor than the old film reels made it seem.

Garcia continued, "a good still of Fury's face when you baffled him is also making the rounds, generally with a sentiment of how he should have done his homework, being surprised by a pop quiz, or being called on in class when you don't know the answer," she hit a button and the screen switched over to an example. Tony had to admit that it was a pretty good joke about what Tony had done by steamrolling Fury with BS.

"I've sent some of the best ones to your emails," Garcia smirked. "There's also a decent Twitter thread and a military streamer who went live just before Hot Chocolate and I got here, both breaking down the UCMJ articles you mentioned and soliciting opinions on how they applied to what Fury had done."

Garcia's laptop pinged as she swiveled it back around on her lap. "Looks like the President's scheduled a press conference of his own at seven thirty," she said, reading it. "Stark's PR team has also said they'll be releasing another statement, concerning Fury's allegations and the 'newfound' footage." Another ping. "And #RogersDiNozzo2012 is now trending."

Tony groaned. "The publicity of a Presidential run is the last thing we need."

Before any of the others could reply, his cell rang. Wiggling on Steve's lap until he could pull it out of his pocket, Tony saw Gibbs's name and quickly answered. "What's up, Boss?"

"You're off duty until further notice," Gibbs didn't sugar coat it. "Shepard's decision. I suggest you stay inside and lock the doors."

Tony sighed. "Fury dropped my address too, we're holed up at the Center."

Gibbs swore for several minutes. Finally, he growled. "Stay there. Watch your back. We'll handle things here."

"Thanks, Boss," Tony closed his eyes and accepted the solace and support. "Watch your back too, and don't kill anyone who annoys you without me there to help hide the body."

Chuckles echoed around him as Gibbs scoffed. "No promises." Then he hung up abruptly, as usual. Tony slid his phone back into his pocket.

"Well, now what?" he asked the assembled group.

Chapter Text

In response to Fury's press release Monday evening, Stark had released one of his own, right after the President's speech. (Which didn't cover anything that Shane and Ramón hadn't already told them, and amounted to little more than the expected ass-covering and wishing Steve and Tony well. Neither the press nor social media were very impressed, and Stark's words were quoted far more frequently than McKenna's.)

The news kept showing clips of Stark's press conference, and snippets of his press release, which got all the talking heads agitated.

After Director Fury's despicable actions earlier today, I, Tony Stark, on behalf of Sentinel Lieutenant Colonel Steve Rogers and Guide Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, with their full knowledge and support, called a press conference.

I didn't do it because I like to hear myself speak, but because I have chosen to embrace the limelight, while the other two most decidedly have not. Instead of shoving their faces on camera in a bid for more sensationalism, they accepted my offer to keep their faces out of it.

Afterwards, Nick Fury called me out, claiming that I did this for my own selfish reasons and saying that if I supported the troops I should go back to arming them. Though this was not supposed to be about me, Nick Fury has made it that way.

Since he started it, I'll remind him that when I was kidnapped by terrorists in Afghanistan, there was a whole convoy of brave American Service Members in the line of fire. I remember them each and every day and I could name them all for you now, if you wanted.

As it happened, some of that convoy were Marines, and it was Special Agent DiNozzo's team who handled the state-side investigation into their deaths. I'd say he and I care a hell of a lot more about those troops than Nick Fury.

I'd also like to point out that the reason I stopped making weapons is because those same troops were hit by illegally stolen and sold Stark weapons. I stopped making the weapons that were being turned against our brave troops. Stark Industries has a number of contracts with the military, providing body armor, intelligence gathering, bomb detection, and other necessities besides weapons. What the hell has Fury done for our troops today?

It was gloriously incendiary, and Tony loved it. No one could refute it, but whole panels of "experts" sat around arguing about whether it was too blunt or not.

Stark had also flown down to DC in his private jet, and he, Pepper, and his head PR person, Gabrielle Moore, had shown up at the Center right on the heels of Kate and Abby, who had brought pizza for everyone. With the DC Center's PR person, Guide Laurie Kimball, joining in, they had a quick and dirty planning session.

Stark had worked fast — or been eerily well prepared — and had a PO Box taken out in Steve and Tony's names at the post office closest to the Center. He also had worked with Jae and Garcia, apparently, and created a joint email account for them with the Center, following the story of Tony being employed as a shaman. Those two addresses were included in the press release they planned to drop early the next morning.

Something that hadn't even occurred to Tony was social media, and so he was surprised and relieved when Stark and Garcia explained that they had already obtained the most common variants on his and Steve's names on the major platforms and email hosts.

Tony might decide he didn't even want a public twitter account, but now no one else could claim to be @TonyDiNozzo or @SpecialAgentTony or one of a dozen other variants. They'd also purchased the most logical domain names, preventing nefarious people from impersonating him and Steve in that way.

Thankfully, no one mentioned his private twitter handle, @TonyPepperoni, which he had created while drunk with a couple of his frat buddies and craving pizza. He mostly used it to follow people, and he had always made sure never to post pictures or mention NCIS or his job on it, but he definitely didn't want the public figuring out it was his. From the smirks that Stark and Garcia shot him, their not mentioning it was a kindness, not because they hadn't already found it. After the day he'd had, though, Tony took the win where he could get it.

Through their bond, Tony could tell that a lot of that talk was going over Steve's head, and he again cursed Fury for jumping the gun. He'd hoped to have Steve all caught up and knowing what twitter even was before he needed to worry about being called out on it. Still, he was grateful for Stark and Garcia's foresight.

With suggestions from Tony and Steve, and occasional snark from the others, the two PR gurus, Gabrielle and Laurie, crafted their first press release, which would be sent out tomorrow morning, along with their shiny new email and PO addresses.

The Washington DC Sentinel and Guide Center, on behalf of Sentinel Lieutenant Colonel Steve Rogers and Guide Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, would like to thank the public for their support. They had hoped for more time for Sentinel Rogers to recover from his ordeal and adjust to this century, but Director Fury has made that impossible.

Sentinel Rogers has this to say: "I appreciate the dedication of those SHIELD agents, led by my friends Guide Special Agent Peggy Carter and Howard Stark, who never gave up hope of finding me. I am also very appreciative to have found my guide, Tony."

"I want to assure the public that, like any sentinel, I will always protect the tribe. Exactly what form of protection that will take is something that Tony and I have to determine, with the assistance of our loved ones. I'm very disappointed at how Agent Fury handled this revelation: if I had wanted more glory, I would have stuck with the Star Spangled Dancers, not gone to war with my fellow soldiers."

"I'm also very disappointed in the utter disregard that Agent Fury showed to my guide. Confronting him at work, with no regard for his Director, his teammates, or the case they were working on, is very unprofessional. When Tony's boss and Director asked Agent Fury to speak to him off the clock or to schedule an appointment through the Sentinel and Guide Center, he called a press conference that same day, in what seems like a blatantly obvious instance of petty revenge."

"Did a simple request to honor a fellow Agency's time and those they represent really require this kind of backlash? I knew Guide Special Agent Peggy Carter very well, and I know she would be disappointed that the Agency she ran and helped create would act in this way."

Guide Special Agent DiNozzo has this to say: "I want to start by addressing my fellow Tony, Tony Stark, since Fury decided to drag him through the mud. As you might imagine, an MIA soldier and a mere Special Agent aren't the kind of people who have lawyers and PR people and news outlets on speed dial. After getting to know us, and being aware of our plan not to announce anything while Steve was recovering, Tony Stark offered us whatever help we might need when the time came. After all, as he said at the time, he should have grown up with his Uncle Steve, had Hydra and the Nazis not interfered."

"The time came much sooner than we expected, and we are quite grateful to Tony Stark and his team for their help. For Fury to turn around and also attack Steve's nephew, after what he did to us, is shameful. Steve and I are very thankful also for the assistance of the Sentinel and Guide community, especially the New York City and Washington DC Centers, and the US Alpha Primes, who have helped us so much over the last few weeks."

"I particularly appreciate the messages of solidarity that I personally have received from fellow police officers and federal agents. And while it is gratifying that we're less likely to get the "NCIS, is that like CSI?" comments that my team alone seems to field at least once a case, I wish it hadn't come at the expense of the effectiveness of my team and my fellow agents, who have been bombarded with people asking about Steve and I while they try to do their jobs."

"I'm still coming to terms with my inability to ever go undercover again, as that was a skill I was very proud of, and something that not every agent is suited for. However, I don't think that going in the other direction is the answer, despite the very flattering Twitter hashtag calling for Steve and I to run for President."

It was fairly professional sounding, in Tony's opinion, and he and Steve managed to thank everyone who had helped or supported them, while still getting in some well-deserved digs at Fury. There were several lines that Gabrielle and Laurie assured them would make wonderful soundbites or headlines, and no one could fault them for the negative things they said about Fury.

With the press release and the pizza finished, and email addresses and phone numbers traded around the room as needed, Stark's contingent set off back to New York. Since she had the better international connections, Gabrielle was going to handle that aspect of the press release, while Laurie would focus on DC's local outlets, which she had already cultivated relationships with. It had also been forwarded to the Council and Blair and Jim, so that they would be prepared when it dropped the next morning.

After bidding the rest of their friends farewell, Tony and Steve fell into bed for some serious comforting and de-stressing.

Three days had passed, and Tony and Steve still couldn't go home to Tony's apartment. Public opinion may be firmly in their favor, but that didn't stop the press and random lookie loos from staking out either their block, the DC Center, or the Navy Yard. Steve was coming to realize that Emily's description of his fame — mixing the biggest movie stars, industrialists, celebrity officers, and world leaders — hadn't even been enough for him to anticipate this.

Tony had gotten a call from Gibbs early Tuesday morning, but instead of the anticipated case, he had been told that he was on paid leave. He wasn't suspended, but for his own good he was to stay away from NCIS and work on his SFA paperwork remotely. Tony put a good face on it, but Steve could tell he was feeling rejected.

Later that evening, when Abby and Gibbs swung by the Center on their way home, they had explained in more detail. Their Director had been furious that people were still staking out the Navy Yard where they all worked, and hassling NCIS teams, and when it showed no signs of slacking off on Tuesday morning, she'd made the decision.

According to Abby, both Gibbs and Kate had snapped at people at the afternoon's crime scene, and apparently so had several agents on other teams. Even Ducky had gone off on some photographer about respecting the deceased when he tried to take a picture of their victim's body. Steve thought that was only right — the dead deserved respect, after all, — but it seemed shocking to think of kindly Ducky speaking so harshly.

Meanwhile, the Director herself had spent most of the day in meetings with the Brass, including SecNav and the Joint Chiefs. Steve found himself tripping over the strange titles less and less as he got used to them. The others had assured Tony that there was no way that their Director could get away with suspending or firing Tony for this mess, but it was also obvious that he couldn't work on a field team, or even do much around the office. Keeping him in what amounted to protective custody by the FBI and the Center was apparently the compromise.

Steve, however, just wanted to know why his own boss would want to fire Tony, or blame him for everything. Unfortunately, it wasn't something that Tony could easily explain, beyond saying that she had just never liked him.

So, Steve and Tony rattled around their fancy suite at the Center, alternating between catching up on movies, checking on the current madness, and a decent amount of cuddling and sex. Every evening, once everyone was done with their day jobs, some of their NCIS and Center friends would stop by for dinner and updates.

An FBI agent and sentinel named Fornell had also come by early Tuesday morning to meet Steve and brief Tony on the case. They had their own temporary task force now, handling security and investigating SHIELD's conduct and crimes against a federal agent.

Since Tony and Steve weren't budging from the Center for a few days, Fornell was able to focus less on bodyguards, trusting the sentinels and security system already in place. He had also joked around with Tony, lifting his guide's spirits, which put him firmly on Steve's good side. Tony needed more people to make him laugh right now.

As the week trudged on, most of the others got back into their normal work routine, and it was obvious that Tony was missing that. Whenever Steve caught him feeling glum, he hurried to explain that it wasn't because he didn't love spending time with Steve. Steve didn't need those assurances to understand that Tony was missing his job and his uncomplicated life, and that had nothing to do with their bond, and everything to do with Fury being an asshole.

By Thursday, they had a new distraction, which was their correspondence. After releasing their addresses with Tuesday's press conference, they had gotten a deluge of responses. Stark's press team and Sentinel Fornell were coordinating on the physical mail, while Guide Garcia and Stark's man Jarvis were filtering the digital mail.

Tony had complained that Steve was learning about e-mail out of order, but it wasn't a hard concept to grasp, and when he'd compared it to a wireless telegram, Tony had given up his teasing rant and declared he was adding something called You've Got Mail to their movie list.

Even though it was out of order, Steve was very grateful to Stark for handling things like creating the email address, and especially for giving them access to his PR person, Mrs Moore. As much as things changed, some things stayed the same, like the need for people who knew about Public Relations.

On Monday night, she and the Center's PR person, Guide Laurie, had been very helpful when Steve was writing his part of the statement. Though he had the ideas, he wasn't sure he was getting them across properly. He might have been part of a PR tour himself under Senator Brant, but all the words had been written for him by someone else. It was a bit of a novelty to share his own words with the American public like this.

And if the amount of mail that he and Tony were receiving was any indication, the public was sharing their own words right back.

The FBI and Stark had taken point on sorting everything out, and with the delivery on Thursday, Sentinel Fornell explained it all to Tony and Steve. Anything remotely threatening went straight to the FBI Task Force. Anything entirely abusive was trashed. Steve thought that was a bit of a waste: people might change their mind if he or Tony replied and set them straight.

Tony and Sentinel Fornell explained that some letters were like that, but also nowadays some people just thrived on spouting off hateful things, and would never be convinced otherwise. It was only these letters that were thrown straight into the trash.

On the other hand, just as Steve had been talking about, there was a small category of messages that weren't supportive, but weren't abusive. They tended to ask a variety of questions about why Tony and Steve hadn't wanted to come out, or why they were upset it had happened. Those, both Tony and Sentinel Fornell believed, were people who could be reasoned with, provided they got a respectful answer. Comparing two of the letters, Steve could understand their point, and agreed with the trashing of the others.

Now, the first batch of those non-abusive but negative letters and all the mail that was supportive was being delivered to Tony and Steve. Their emails had been sorted in the same way, and were also waiting for their response. According to Sentinel Fornell, about 80% of the mail they got was supportive, while the rest varied between threatening, abusive, and negative. Steve didn't have anything to compare it to, but Tony was impressed by the positivity.

Looking at the few dozen bins stacked around their table, and having been told that there were about three times that amount in the email, Steve was feeling overwhelmed and had no idea what to do. From his smell, neither did Tony, but he at least knew who to ask for help.

He sent texts to Mrs. Moore, Guide Laurie, and Stark, asking for advice. By lunch, Guide Laurie and Mrs. Moore had joined them to make a plan. At their suggestion, the first step was to make a custom letterhead. Steve wasn't sure why it mattered, but he believed the experts when they both assured him that it did.

So after about an hour's work, Tony and Steve were the proud owners of custom letterhead. With input from the experts, they specifically avoided Captain America imagery, but went with a neutral Army khaki and police officer blue for their accent colors. One to represent Steve, and one Tony.

They also chose to use the Sentinel and Guide logo for their watermark, declaring their allegiance to that organization, rather than America specifically with any kind of flag or seal. Guide Laurie had called it 'understated, yet fitting,' and that was good enough for Steve.

Then, Mrs. Moore had had Steve and Tony sign their signatures on her Starkpad, which looked like a large version of Tony's phone. He and Tony followed her advice to make an "autograph" version that was different from their legal signatures, so they spent a while doodling different versions before settling on the final ones.

Though the letterhead identified them as a Lieutenant Colonel and a Special Agent, their signatures only used the Sentinel and Guide honorifics. They didn't want to associate Steve with the Captain America stage name any more than they had to. And, if Tony ended up leaving NCIS, he wouldn't necessarily be a Special Agent anymore, so he didn't want to get used to signing that way. On the other hand, they'd never stop being a sentinel and guide.

With the signatures finalized and scanned into the Starkpad, they could be used for all Tony and Steve's email correspondence, even if neither one looked at the email himself.

Then, with Mrs. Moore and Guide Laurie's help, Tony and Steve looked through a few dozen letters. Steve quickly realized what they had meant when they told him that they could use something called a form reply. Many of the letters he looked at said basically the same thing.

They composed a few form replies that Tony and Steve were both happy with, which they were assured would probably adequately reply to over half of the positive mail they received.

The last three they made took the longest, and it was mostly up to Steve to write them. One thing that Tony and Steve — and even their PR people, to an extent — hadn't expected was the overwhelming response from veterans. There were a huge number of letters from World War Two veterans and their families. Many shared that over the decades they had passed down family stories about their military relative being rescued by Steve from this or that Hydra base — far more families than could be physically possible, but Steve and Tony weren't in the mood to quibble.

Many more were simply reaching out to thank Steve for his service, congratulate him on his retrieval and bonding, and express their anger and disgust with Fury's machinations. With help from the others, and using their first set of form replies as outlines, Steve composed three replies. The first was for veterans, thanking them for their service and their support. The second was for families, expressing his gratitude for their support and his respect for their loved one's service.

Finally, he addressed those who shared a family story of him rescuing their loved one. That one was the hardest to write, and Steve relied heavily on the other three for their advice.

Once those were done, the group went over their plan for replies. Steve learned that Mrs. Moore was temporarily assigned to DC to help them, with her assistant back in New York taking care of Stark's needs. She and Guide Laurie planned, with Tony and Steve's agreement and Stark's funding, to hire a handful of people with PR experience.

Using Tony and Steve's new letterhead and their digital signatures, Guide Laurie would type up each of the reply letters they had made, and then Mrs. Moore would print out hundreds of copies of them. Then, their new employees would read each letter that the FBI had cleared, and pick the pre-written reply that fit it the best. They'd address the reply, and note on the original which one they'd sent.

Any letter that didn't fit well with one of the pre-written form responses, or that needed a bit more of a personal touch, were set aside for Tony and Steve to look at when they had the time. For most of those, Guide Laurie had explained, Tony and Steve could still use one of the form replies; they would just need to tweak it slightly.

All of the answered letters would also be set aside for Tony and Steve, if they wanted to read them. In particular, Steve intended to read through the letters from the veterans to see if he recognized any names or units.

There had been a good amount of mail for Captain America during the press tour, he explained. Senator Brant's people had taken care of all of it, but when he asked, they had given him some of the children's letters to read. Now, he and Tony asked for the same, and it was agreed that anything from kids would be put into a separate box, like the veterans, for them to look at when they had time.

Of course, with Tony essentially being suspended, he had nothing but time. He had already finished his paperwork early on Wednesday, leaving him with nothing to do but watch movies with Steve. His teammates, including Abby, Ducky, and Jimmy, had checked in on him every day, but it wasn't the same.

After three days, the crowds around the Navy Yard and at crime scenes had not abated. Several agents who bore a vague resemblance to Tony had been accosted at scenes, and those stories were dutifully related to Tony whenever he talked to anyone from the office.

His apartment was also still swarming with reporters, and at this rate Tony had expressed his fear that he was going to have to move. Of course, those vultures would probably just follow the moving van to his new location — if Fury didn't bother to leak it — and the mess wouldn't end. It wasn't that the suite at the Center wasn't nice, but Tony missed his home, his kitchen, his movies, and his piano.

Steve understood, though he was faring slightly better, as he hadn't actually had a place of his own, and wasn't particularly attached to Tony's apartment. They were just going to have to have the "getting a home together" discussion a lot earlier than planned. Not that Tony was opposed to a new place on principle, he quickly explained. Everything was just happening so fast.

Tony had thought that after the weekend, things would slow down, but it wasn't the case. Their mail certainly was still going strong, and mail bins sat in every corner of their living room. The press conferences had stopped, though the talking heads were still at it. Now there was talk about a congressional hearing, which was the last thing Tony wanted. If they were lucky, Stark would be allowed to go in his and Steve's place, and he could make a fool out of everyone like he had at the Iron Man hearing. As well as they knew each other now, — though they remained on a last-name basis, mostly because everyone else got huffy when they played the 'which Tony are you talking to?' game — Tony had no doubts that Stark would agree to the plan. If only they could convince Congress that it was a good idea!

The letter and email answering teams had worked through the weekend, and were almost caught up with just the first batch that had been cleared by Thursday. Everything was a well-oiled machine now, at least, so they'd keep shortening the gap.

Garcia and Abby had taken it upon themselves to help cheer Tony up, mostly by sharing memes and twitter hot takes. Aside from the ones that Garcia had shown everyone that first night, there were a bunch more specifically about his UCMJ rant. Things like "when you charged with abandoning a plane cause you parachuted out of the crash," and the like were very well received, according to some kind of data the geeks could access.

Also, over the course of the week, several JAG lawyers had jokingly praised Tony's interpretations of the UCMJ, and stated that they wouldn't want to go up against him in court. Harm had been one of them, though he chose to give Tony crap by text, instead of over twitter. Tony promptly told him to come say that to his own sentinel's face. Harm had desisted in mock fear, but did actually swing by on a lunch break to check up on Tony, which he appreciated.

In addition to the jokes, Steve and Tony were getting a lot of support on social media. Within the first twenty four hours, a few dozen governments and companies had made statements. Some of them were a bit hesitant to condemn Fury, but they all supported Tony and Steve. By Wednesday, that number had grown to over a hundred.

The CEOs and PR departments for some pretty big name brands came out on their side, especially after the second batch of statements spread. All of the European countries that were involved in World War Two also released a statement of some kind, given Steve's role in their history. The official social media accounts of every branch of the US Armed Services, tons of police precincts, — including all three that Tony had been at — and just about every Federal Agency in the country spoke out for them as well.

By the weekend, Fury's support was virtually non-exhistent, and, save for a few idiotic talking heads, being very quiet about it. Tony's geek squad had written some kind of algorithm that trawled through social media, and they had compiled a list of people who had made posts that very carefully didn't condemn Fury, or who stayed silent against expectations.

Tony had no idea what they intended to do with such a list, but he wasn't going to stop them. He would rather just go to bed and forget all about everything. Maybe he and Steve could hibernate for the rest of winter? He didn't wish this attention on anyone else, but he couldn't help but hope that someone else would do something outrageous soon and steal their unwanted limelight. Seriously, where were all those reality TV stars who wanted the attention? Why couldn't one of them have a scandal right about now?

He wouldn't give up Steve for the world, but Tony could still wish that his life hadn't been upended quite so efficiently. And he had thought becoming a shaman was bad!

Chapter Text

By the end of the second week, post-outing, Tony had to concede that things were not getting better. Every time he thought the furor might die down, something else would rear up and catch everyone's attention. First the videos, then the arguments over the congressional hearing, then a supposed super-villain had attacked the DC Center!

The Sentinels at the door had easily taken him down, but it was exactly the kind of bullseye that Tony hadn't wanted on his or Steve's back. Stark's and the Center's statements that evening were scathing of Fury for making them a target.

Then, on Monday, some intern at the Smithsonian had leaked documents they owned, but didn't display, as part of their Captain America exhibit. That included written correspondence between Colonel Phillips and Senator Brant, after Steve went off the rails and left the USO show to be a real soldier.

The most relevant bit was where Phillips quoted Steve explaining that he volunteered for Project Rebirth to be a soldier, not a performing monkey, and that the Star Spangled Dancers would be fine punching Hitler themselves without him. Needless to say, that spawned more memes and comparisons to their current situation. At least the one photoshopped of Steve punching Fury instead of Hitler made Tony smile, and he printed out a copy and hung it on their minifridge.

On Tuesday, someone uploaded to Youtube Steve's old movies and a promotional video of his show tour. This time Steve was the one who wanted to hide in bed all day, and Tony had to coax him out.

On Wednesday, someone finally got a copy of SHIELD's expense report. Tony Stark cheerfully dropped several files showing how much Howard had spent trying to track down his friend's body to give him a proper funeral. SHIELD had spent roughly three times as much, and had done it using taxpayer funds.

The outrage was fierce, but mostly Tony found himself amused at how people kept tripping over themselves as they tried to complain about what a waste of money it was without saying they weren't glad that Steve had eventually been found.

On Thursday, Stark went to war with SHIELD, giving an interview on Good Morning America, in which he asked a number of hard-hitting questions that he, Garcia, and Tony had brainstormed, like:

"Why was a shady spy organization the one looking for Captain America in the first place?"
"Howard had been doing it for personal reasons, and spending his own personal money, but what did a bunch of spies get out of it?"
"Why weren't the Army or other trained search and rescue teams involved?"
"Why didn't SHIELD announce to the public that they had found the plane before bringing up Captain America's body?"
"Did they find the plane in International Waters, and if so, did they file the proper paperwork?"
"What happened to the technology on that plane? Was it salvaged too?"
"Why didn't SHIELD have sentinel-trained medical people standing by?"
"Why did SHIELD deliberately exclude sentinels and guides, and their medical experts, when Rogers was a known sentinel?"

Social media went wild, and Tony wished he could have seen footage of Fury's face when the interview aired. Instead, he settled for cuddling on the couch with Steve and cackling madly as the hosts kept getting more and more flustered.

In retaliation, by lunch, Fury's female second in command, who Tony learned was named Maria Hill, gave an interview. She again called out Stark for making it about himself, and then brought up the superhero angle.

She pointed to Stark as someone who was trying to make up for their past mistakes by taking on the mantle of Iron Man and doing his part. She then detailed how Steve had done the same as Captain America back in the day, and wondered why he wasn't resuming his old role now. It was subtle, but the inference that Tony was stopping his sentinel from helping wasn't lost on anyone in their circle.

Stark shot off a retaliatory tweet asking her to clarify whether he was sticking his nose in where it didn't belong, or whether he was supposed to be leading Steve by example.

One of the things that Gabrielle and Laurie had been working with Tony and Steve on during the week, in addition to the mail, was a few pre-planned press releases, for the obvious angles they thought Fury would try. Now, all that was needed was for Tony and Steve to give the go ahead, and within minutes of Hill's press conference concluding, their own statement was pushed out.

Tony's favorite line was the one where they said, "In the event of a crisis, of course we will do our part to protect the tribe, just like every sentinel and guide would. We don't need publicity or stage names for that, and neither would any of the other thousands of sentinels and guides who would also step up at that time."

He just loved rubbing Fury's face in the fact that he and Steve were sentinels and guides, and that even if they did decide to get into the superhero gig, they wouldn't need him to do it.

Thursday was also when Tony caved and asked for one of the social media accounts that Garcia and Stark's team had reserved for him. After a bit of discussion with Steve and Garcia, they decided for now not to use one of the joint names, but for Tony to use a solo one. That way, once Steve was caught up, he could use his own account separately if he wanted.

With Emily, Abby, and Garcia's approval, Tony picked @ShamanTony, because if he was going to do this, he was going to go big. Everyone knew that Blair was a Shaman, and the four other Shamans on the International Council were publicly known as well. Shamans who weren't as much in the limelight, like Emily, tended to be known to their tribe and usually their greater region, but didn't exactly advertise their status. Guides and Sentinels would be able to tell in person, but it wasn't like they signed their emails with the Shaman title.

For Tony, he knew it was only going to be a matter of time before the plague thing came out, and everybody started speculating anyway. He figured he might as well get the ball rolling by embracing the title. For his inaugural tweet, Tony retweeted the new press release and then called out Stark with "Yeah, not all of us need to cosplay as a hot rod to lend a hand."

He knew Stark wouldn't take it personally — he'd done an interview a year or so back where he explained that the original idea for the Iron Man paint job came from one of his classic hot rods. It was the same interview where he bemoaned the fact that Gold-Titanium Alloy Man just didn't have the same ring to it, even if it was more factual.

Within minutes, Stark had blasted him back with "Aww, don't be jealous of my car collection, Uncle Tony. We can't all drive government-issued sedans, you know."

Tony, of course, replied with "Who're you calling a sedan?" and a picture of his Mustang, currently safely parked at the NCIS garage, where he'd left it when Abby helped him escape last week.

Someone then released the footage from a year ago of his precious corvette being totaled. When Stark snarkily offered to replace it, Tony launched a five part lecture on how that car was his baby and you can't just replace it like that. And how she was originally a wreck that took him three summers to restore, so she was full of his own blood, sweat, and tears, and a new one just wouldn't be the same.

Then, on the final post in the chain, with Garcia's help, Tony found a shot of Stark's race car that had been shredded at Monaco by that Vanko lunatic a few months ago, and posted "Besides, you really wanna go there?"

Stark quickly declared a truce, and the retweet battle devolved to them reminiscing about their first cars. Tony was persuaded to post a 'before' picture of his corvette, which he had gotten from a salvage yard right after graduating RIMA, and the 'after' shot of when he finished it the summer after his sophomore year. Stark, of course, retaliated with a picture of the first motorbike engine he made at age seven. Tony encouraged the rest of Twitter to gang up on the billionaire and show off their own first grease jobs.

Tony found himself actually enjoying the banter, and the images that people shared. Of course, Garcia kept him apprised of his stats: once Stark obliquely confirmed his identity with that first response, Tony's follower count had steadily grown. He had over a million followers within four hours, including some pretty big named celebrities and business people. Though Tony did have to shake his head when both Doctor Brad Pitt and the actor Brad Pitt followed him in the same hour. What was his life now?

For his part, Tony only followed back Stark, Blair, the Sentinel and Guide Council and Centers, NCIS, and a number of police, federal, and military accounts. Garcia had warned him that any individual he followed would be thrust into the limelight, so instead of doing to his friends what Fury had done to Tony, he chose to highlight the organizations that had supported Steve and himself. And, of course, his beloved Buckeyes.

By the time the usual crowd dropped by for dinner, Tony had almost two million followers, and had gotten into a meme war with the Buckeyes mascot account. Steve, who had been following along with interest, finally decided to activate his own Twitter account, for the sole purpose of adding to the #FirstCar hashtag that the two Tonys were fueling.

Of course, since Steve was a total troll, his contribution was a stock drawing of a Penny Farthing bicycle. Both Tonys ran with the joke, posting images of Roman chariots and stone age wheels and the like and tagging him in the picture. Finally, around midnight, Pepper made a tweet calling out the three of them and telling them to act like adults. By mutual decision over text, both Tonys refrained from making any comments about Steve's theoretical age. Instead, all three replied with contrite tweets.

"Sorry Pep."
"Sorry Pepper."
"Sorry Ma'am."

On Friday, they woke up to find that someone — which everyone in their group knew was just code for Stark or his AI, JARVIS, — had leaked a bunch of classified SHIELD files about something called the Avengers Initiative. Several names and faces were blurred out, to protect their identities, but they hadn't bothered to do the same with Stark, Tony, and Steve, since their images were already out there.

Steve's file detailed the original plan to make him think it was still the 1940s when he woke up, as a test, and had no provisions for catching him up on the seventy years he had missed. It also listed Steve as a sentinel, but had no provisions for him to be checked out medically by a sentinel or guide, or for the Council's involvement at all. The Council, and both the New York and DC Centers, put out press releases blasting the plans as criminally negligent.

Tony's file was less than a month old, and clearly put together after the New York incident. His personal history had several glaring gaps, and, like Stark's, only one of his degrees — his Kinesiology Bachelor's — was listed. In addition to calling him "another smart-ass like Stark", he was listed as "Rogers' weak spot" and "only an unenhanced baseline human" and "easily manipulable."

Tony retweeted it with the word "easily" crossed out and scribbled in above it "not remotely". Then he added his own flair: "bigger pain in the ass than we anticipated. Abort. Abort."

Under his background, SHIELD had included the line "agent at minor federal agency, but only a cop background. Possibly recruit or forcibly transfer to SHIELD." That got them in even more hot water, as NCIS and the military railed against the "minor" insult, and the idea of one of their agents being transferred against his will. Meanwhile, nearly every police precinct in the country took offense to the "only a cop" part. Tony left them to it: he had no need to contribute to that fight, and it was far more interesting to watch what was happening around Stark.

The assessment of Stark was infuriating, especially where they tried to separate him from his suit as though they were two different people. Stark Industries released a short note that they disagreed with the assessment. Stark's friend Rhodey — who Tony and Steve had met via text — released an official military statement that explained that his own War Machine armor had been genetically locked to him, so if SHIELD wanted Iron Man alone, they'd be getting a very expensive paperweight.

Stark just tweeted a screenshot of the symptoms of heavy metal poisoning and said, "oh yes, that's a good time to do a personality assessment." The Twitter outrage led to Stark having to call another press conference, which Tony and Steve watched from their suite that afternoon with Jae, Marius, Emily, and Yulia.

Once again, Stark walked out on the stage with Pepper at his side, though this time she didn't give the press what for before starting. Stark approached the podium and pulled out his cards. "Tenth time's the charm, right?" he joked, waving them, and eliciting a quiet chuckle from the press corps.

"As everyone knows, in 2008 I was captured in an attack on a military convoy in Afghanistan. The terrorist group known as the Ten Rings was responsible for the attack, and captured me. What is slightly less well known is that I was heavily injured, and the extent of my injuries. In an attempt to keep one thing about my like private, I requested that that information be hidden and downplayed in the reports."

"Now, however, it has become apparent that I need to explain some of the things I would rather keep private, because, once again, SHIELD has forced my hand." Stark tapped his phone, and the screen behind him lit up with a chest x-ray. A large ring glowed brightly in the center, and a handful of other bright pinpricks were scattered throughout.

"That's my chest right now," Stark explained evenly. "Every single one of those little bright spots is a piece of shrapnel in my veins, trying to make its way back to my heart, where it would kill me." He ignored the collected gasps and continued grimly. "When the Ten Rings kidnapped me, they also had a captive doctor by the name of Yinsen. He saved my life, not just by putting me back together, but by building an electromagnetic device to keep that shrapnel out of my heart."

"Of course, Yinsen was a doctor, not an engineer, so the first version ran off a car battery. And let me tell you, you haven't felt pain until you've been waterboarded while also being electrocuted because your makeshift pacemaker's in the splash zone," he finished grimly. Behind him, Pepper's hand flew to her mouth, but she didn't break down or even tear up on camera.

"Luckily, I onlined as a guide, instead of a sentinel, or I probably would have gone into sentinel shock from the pain. And then I would have died in that cave." There was a rush of sound from the reporters, and Stark smirked.

"Oh yes, something that even Nicky didn't include in his little write up on me. I think I actually managed to fool the super spy this time. Do you think he'd throw a tantrum if he found out that mere 'baseline' Guide Tony DiNozzo saw right through my tech and identified me as a guide within five minutes of meeting me? Something none of Fury's little band managed, might I add? Quick, someone at SHIELD record his reaction!"

Pepper snorted, but nudged him back on track. Stark sighed. "Beside the point. Suffice to say, since my return, I have been working with the Sentinel and Guide Centers, and have them to credit for the extent of my recovery."

"Anyway, back in '08, the Ten Rings wanted me to take the Stark weapons they already had and make them a Jericho, uber weapon out of them. Instead, I built this." Another image flashed on the screen — this one a picture of Stark's chest with a round device placed where the ring had been on the x-ray. "It's a miniaturized arc reactor, and the Mark 1 here used palladium, because that's what I had lying around. You know, in the terrorists' cave. With that, and the rest of the scraps, I was able to make the first version of the Iron Man armor and escape."

"Once I got back to America, with my workshop at my disposal, I made a better, more efficient version of the arc reactor, but palladium was still the best option I had to power it. Now, again, you've seen this thing glowing in the chest of the Iron Man armor, but what I told Congress is as true today as it was then. This is a prosthetic device that is keeping my heart from being ripped to shreds as we speak. I didn't choose to become Iron Man because I wanted to put on a spangly outfit and prance around saving the world for the cameras. I did it to save my life, and then to keep my company's weapons from doing this to anyone else."

"Now, while I was managing not to die from shrapnel wounds, I was slowly dying of palladium poisoning." Stark tapped and a new picture of his chest appeared. The reactor looked different, and the streaks of darkness racing away from it's rim told their own story. "Fun fact about heavy metal toxicity," Stark continued blithely. "It causes bone marrow, liver and kidney damage; nausea, weakness, sleeplessness, irritability and mood changes, and, of course, everyone's favorite, death."

"While I was suffering these symptoms, I attempted to put my affairs in order. I met with Congress to try to get them to refrain from abusing my tech. I coded one of my suits to my best friend's DNA, in what I hoped would be a peace offering for the military, since the rest were going to become inactive once I died. I tried to name Pepper my CEO for Stark Industries so that it could carry on in my absence without a succession fight. I was doing my best."

"And what did Nick Fury do? He sent one of his spies into Stark Industries to engage in a little corporate espionage—" and here he displayed an employee ID of a cool, aloof, looking redhead "— since we're all about transparency, right Nick? This is Natasha, or, as you can see on her ID, Natalie. I like to call her Natashalie, because I don't know which name is real, or if neither one is her real name. Plus, it pisses her off when I do it."

"Now, while my thinking was compromised by heavy metal poisoning, Nicky sent her into Stark Industry's legal department, ensuring that everything she had a hand in, including the paperwork for me to name Pepper my CEO, was in fact, not legal! How about that!"

"And while she was at it, she compiled that lovely assessment you read this morning: the dossier of my personality that was based entirely on my actions while compromised by heavy metal toxicity and what I thought was my impending death. Oh, Tony Stark got wasted at his birthday party? Is that because he's an irresponsible jackass, or because he was grieving the fact that that was the last birthday party he thought he was ever going to have, and his decision making skills were compromised? Take a wild guess."

Pepper gently tapped Tony on the shoulder, and he sighed, but shuffled through his cards. "I'm getting better at this," he mumbled at her, barely loud enough for the mics to pick up. "Anyway, Fury and his minion did nothing to help me. Now, I hear you saying, why would I expect them to help me? Well, here's the kicker. The entire time, they were sitting on boxes of my father — Howard Stark's — things. His things that SHIELD had illegally confiscated after his death. And in one of those boxes was dad's formula for Starkanium — that's right, you thought I named it for myself? No, that's for my old man. I mean, I wanted to call it, Badassium, but the patent office has no sense of humor, FYI —"

Stark caught himself without a nudge from Pepper and tapped his phone, displaying a new image of his chest, with a more advanced looking triangular reactor — the same one that Tony and the others had seen back in New York at their first meeting. The deadly lines around it were almost gone, though the scarring was still there. "And guess what happens to be a perfect replacement for the Palladium in my chest prosthetic? Starkanium."

"So yes, for those of you sitting at home doing the math, let's recap: Fury had, in my father's illegally confiscated notes, the cure I needed, as well as a palliative treatment that could temporarily lessen my symptoms, and instead chose to withhold that information; send someone to infiltrate my company, — committing even more corporate espionage — and physically assault me; at one point he disabled the artificial intelligence that was monitoring my health; based his entire psychological assessment of me on the worst month of my life when my thinking was chemically compromised; and then told me that he wanted my prosthesis, but not myself, for his little superhero initiative."

Stark cleared his throat and then looked dead at the camera. "My entire life has been lived in the public eye since I was four, thanks to my dad. I tried to keep something for myself, and it was held over my head like blackmail, and used to manipulate me and those I consider my family. So I'm forced to fight fire with fire. You want Iron Man for your little boy band, Fury? Not until you engage in a little transparency of your own."

"Why was your little superhero team in the hands of a super shady spy organization like SHIELD anyway? Why wasn't the military involved? Back when my father and Aunt Peggy were involved, SHIELD's predecessor, the SSR, was fully incorporated with the American military. If you were worried about threats from space, why the hell wasn't NASA involved?"

"You talk about international planetary defense, but you're an American organization tracking American 'assets' as you call them. Why not reach out to the International Sentinel and Guide Council, who already handle international planetary defense? You seem to want to exclude Sentinels and Guides from your team, or compromise the ones you can't do without, like Steve Rogers, but they're the ones who will be on the front lines, protecting the tribe, whether you like it or not."

"You might have rejected me, and tried to manipulate me, but I didn't apply to your boy band in the first place. If I needed funding and tech to fight a global threat, I have my own company and R&D department for that. If I needed more people to fight alongside me against a global threat, I'd use my military contacts or go to the Sentinel and Guide Council. I don't need SHIELD, and it's incredibly arrogant of you to pretend that I asked and that you're denying me."

"All that Nicky Fury and his people have ever done for me is withhold my father's things, hack my shit, lie to me, screw up SI's legal department, impede my health, attempt to put me under house arrest like they had any say over a grown adult they didn't employ, try to manipulate me, and hurt people I care about. Oh, and Agent Coulson once helped Pepper by being in the right place at the right time after harassing her for a few weeks, so I guess there's that. But as for the rest? Why don't you try helping by not helping."

Stark tapped his phone and the screen behind him lit up with the meme of Fury's baffled face from when he confronted Tony, with the word, "questions?" in white. The reporters went mad.

Jae turned down the volume and blew out a huge sigh. "Well, that's done it."

"Oh, yeah, I think he just took my spot as Fury's number one enemy," Tony agreed. "Though from the sound of it, I might have only been temporarily usurping the crown that was originally his."

"The one he called Natashalie is dangerous," Yulia added. "You could see it in her face. She'll come after him."

"I'm sure he knows, but it wouldn't hurt for us to give our opinion of that," Emily agreed.

"I'll text Pepper," Tony promised, digging out his phone and shooting off a quick message. He also decided to give Fornell a heads up; they needed to go over the task force members with a fine toothed comb and make sure SHIELD hadn't slipped any moles into the FBI either. Gibbs could probably pass on a similar message to Director Shepard. He didn't know if Fury would even want to inject one of his minions into NCIS, but it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye out, just in case.

As it turned out, his "just in case" wasn't paranoia. Saturday morning's news led with the double whammy that Natashalie had been caught by security attempting to sneak into Stark's Long Island mansion in the middle of the night, and that she had submitted an employment application to NCIS the same day as Fury's visit, under the alias Natalia Roman.

That infuriated Tony, and the rest of his NCIS family, and he immediately teamed up with Laurie to bash out a quick and dirty press release.

Nick Fury of SHIELD — and I hesitate to call him Directory Fury, because I don't think he deserves that title — has proven once again what little regard he has for our nation's laws, its troops, and their families.

His agent, for whom the Natashalie moniker continues to seem the most appropriate, applied to work at NCIS on the very day that Fury and his two shadows came to speak to me.

At that time, they disrespected my Director, my Senior Agent, and the Sailors and Marines we represent, by insisting that their time was more valuable than ours. They attempted to talk to me about my bonding with Steve while I was on the clock for NCIS, ignoring both the fact that my bond is none of their business, and that their actions could be construed as bond interference.

Given the file they had compiled on me, it's clear that they thought I would be easily manipulable and would fall in line. Too bad for them that I, and more importantly, my Director, called them on their bullshit and told them to make an appointment with the DC Sentinel and Guide Center.

Based on the pattern established with Tony Stark, it's clear that Natashalie was sent to NCIS to get close to me, likely to attempt the same surveillance and control that she attempted on Stark. Part of me wishes that myself and my Director had not dismissed Fury so utterly that he decided to blow up that plan by blowing up my life.

You see, I'm not suffering from heavy metal toxicity that's compromising my thinking. Nor am I a genius engineer and businessman: admirable traits, but they don't exactly lend themselves to unmasking spies. What I am is a fully trained federal agent, an undercover expert, and a shaman. I don't care how good her training is: I can confidently say, without hesitation, that Natashalie's undercover gig at NCIS wouldn't have lasted one day after I met her.

However, that's my own hubris talking. In reality, I'm glad that Natashalie didn't get that far — she blew off her interview after Fury's tantrum, FYI. Because even if I had caught her in one day, NCIS would have been faced with the same problem that Stark Industries was: her presence tainted everything she touched.

That morning, my team and I were working on a case, which I cannot share the details of for confidentiality concerns that I take seriously. What I can say is that my team, the MCRT, routinely handled high profile cases such as kidnappings, murders, and terrorism.

Now imagine for a moment that Natashalie had succeeded in being hired by NCIS. Any case she was involved with, even peripherally, would be tainted by association. Imagine that your loved one was killed, or they were kidnapped, or that your place of work was threatened by terrorists. And then imagine that after all the stress and emotional trauma of the trial rehashing up those memories, the bad guy walked away scott free because Natashalie's presence invalidated our warrants, or screwed up our chain of evidence.

Aside from the damage that Fury has done to my personal ability to do my job, or the way he has compromised NCISs ability as a whole to get their job done because of lookie loos and crowds, this is unconscionable. Fury was willing to put every single case involving NCIS at risk by inserting his pet spy into our office.

That kind of willful, arrogant, indifference to the people NCIS serves — which, remember, are United States Sailors, Marines, and their families — shows exactly the kind of man Nick Fury is.

Within minutes of his statement going out, the tapes from the NCIS bullpen of the incident were leaked. Tony suspected Abby, but wouldn't put it past the Director to have ordered it herself. Yet again, Fury's face became synonymous with being stymied by one Tony DiNozzo. He wasn't alone, though, as memes of Hill and Coulson made the rounds too.

According to Fornell, Natashalie's photo was now hanging on the door of every HR office in the Bureau, and it was also tacked on the bulletin board in the Task Force office. If she tried getting anywhere close to their operation, she'd quickly find herself in cuffs.

From what little Tony knew about her, he figured she'd go to ground instead: having one's face and aliases flashed all over the news and internet had to be a spy's worst nightmare. It had certainly been his worst nightmare as an undercover operative, and he thought he should probably feel a little bad for a fellow agent put in the same position, but the schadenfreude was too strong.

When nothing new hit the news cycle Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning, Tony thought he might finally be able to relax. Everything had been said, all of the files and videos had been leaked, and the whole world seemed to know the entire story. There was nothing left to discover, so now, with luck, everything would die down over the next few weeks, and he and Steve could finally get back to starting their life together in peace.

On Monday morning, ZNN ran an interview with Tony's father.

Chapter Text

Steve was finishing up his breakfast — his super soldier metabolism meant that he easily ate twice as much as Tony — while his partner perched on the arm of the loveseat and flipped through the muted TV channels, when suddenly a bolt of fear, panic, and rage slammed through their bond. Steve jumped to his feet and looked around wildly, but they were the only ones in their suite.

Coming up behind Tony, who had shot to his feet, Steve wrapped his arms around his guide's waist, lending him strength to help shore up his shields. Resting his chin on Tony's shoulder, he took in the screen at a glance. An unfamiliar man who looked about the same age as Gibbs and Jim was sitting there, being interviewed by a reporter Steve vaguely recognized from the past weeks' media coverage. Scrolling across the bottom of the screen were the words Tony DiNozzo Senior speaks out!

Tony had avoided talking about his parents, for the most part. Back in the first few days while they were bonding, he had mentioned that his mother was a drunk who died when he was a child, and his father wasn't in his life, but other than those details, Tony had remained tight-lipped on the subject. Now, before Steve could ask what was going on, the door burst open.

Jae and Marius were the first ones in the door, though Steve could see Emily behind them. "What was that, mate?" Jae asked. "We felt you all the way down in our office!"

Tony was still staring at the screen, fighting to control his emotions, and there was nothing Steve could fight to help him, so he decided to fill in the blanks as best as he could. "His dad's giving an interview on ZNN."

"Oh shit," Emily said, quickly pushing past the others. She moved in front of Tony, blocking his view of the TV, and placed her palms against his temples. Steve wanted to snarl at her for touching his guide, but he bit back the feeling: he knew Emily was a friend, and wouldn't hurt Tony. More importantly, she was a fellow shaman. His anger was irrational. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes.

A few minutes passed, and suddenly Tony's shields slammed shut. Behind them, Steve heard Jae and Marius sigh in relief simultaneously. Someone else entered their suite, and without looking Steve recognized the scent profile of the Center's PR person, Laurie.

After another minute or so, Steve felt the maelstrom of Tony's emotions recede from their bond. As it did, his own mind cleared, freeing him from the overwhelming urge to protect his guide. Like a door closing, Tony's fear and panic abruptly vanished, leaving behind only his anger: white-hot, but contained.

Emily opened her eyes and let her hands drop, offering Tony a half smile. "Well that was fun," she murmured.

Tony snorted. "Only if I didn't project that to the entire Eastern Seaboard."

"Nah, mate," Jae chimed in, "at most you hit a block or three around the Center. For a shaman as strong as you, that's barely a blip."

"Good," Tony nodded sharply. Then he shifted so that he could grab Steve's hand with his own. "Sorry about that, everyone. It really shouldn't have blindsided me, but I guess I got complacent when he didn't come crawling around in the first week."

"For what it's worth, I'm a mid-level guide, and I didn't feel it that strongly in my office, but guessed it was you because I happened to be watching that on the news," Laurie said, waving at the TV in explanation. "Mundanes and low-level guides probably wouldn't have felt it outside the building."

Steve saw Tony's eyes widen in surprise at the realization that she was there: clearly he hadn't sensed her come in while he and Emily were fixing his shields.

"Alright," Tony nodded, "good to know we're not going to get calls about an unstable guide on top of everything else," he joked, though Steve still felt nothing but tight anger through their bond.

"Uh, I'm a bit lost," Steve admitted. "That is Tony's dad, right?"

"It is," Tony bit out. "Though the word 'dad' is a little misleading. It would be more accurate to say he's responsible for half of my genetics and a lot of my issues."

Before Steve could point out that that didn't really clear anything up, Tony's phone played Stark's ringtone. He answered without looking at the screen. "I take it you've seen the news too?"

Steve could easily hear Tony Stark's voice on the other end. "Sorry, I really thought I'd offered him a big enough bribe." Stark had bribed Tony's dad— or whatever he was? Why? Steve still didn't understand what was going on.

"That explains what took so long," Tony bit out. "Thanks for that. I guess Fury offered him something better."

"Nah, Fury's internal emails with Coulson said he wasn't going to go there. Coulson profiled Senior as 'a loose cannon who was just as likely to fire on SHIELD as on DiNozzo and Rogers.' They weren't gonna touch him with a ten foot pole either."

Tony sighed. "So he's working his own angle, and whatever it is he thinks it'll make him more money than you paid. Wonderful."

"He might think that, but clearly he didn't read the fine print on the contract," Stark sounded positively evil. "I gave him ten million, but if he breaks his silence, he's gotta immediately pay back the principle plus another ten million. At fifteen percent interest."

Tony whistled. "I can pretty much guarantee he already spent most of it, and I don't think he's ever had that much in his life, let alone double it."

"I figured," Stark replied smugly. "So, full steam ahead?"

"Absolutely," Tony said coldly.

"Hey," Stark's tone became nervous as he hesitantly asked, "how are you, you know, handling it? I mean, it's infuriating, obviously, but…"

"I'm going to raze him to the ground," Tony snarled.

"I mean, not that he doesn't deserve it, but that means people knowing about you, too," Stark replied. "You okay with making that decision in the heat of the moment?"

"Emily helped stabilize my shields, so this is about as calm as I'm going to get," Tony said ominously. "I've thought about it here and there since Fury nuked my life, but when he didn't crawl out of the woodwork I got complacent. I don't want anything he says to have a chance to burrow into people's minds, so I want to jump on this so that we control the narrative, not him. I'm prepared to go as far as Hawaii if I have to."

That at least made some sense to Steve: their PR people were always talking about 'controlling the narrative' and who the public would believe.

"Damn," Stark sighed. "If you're sure, then good luck."

"Thanks. Back atcha," Tony said, then hung up.

"Not to pry, but who exactly are we razing to the ground?" Jae asked, breaking the heavy silence.

"My father," Tony said coldly.

"Don't you want to hear exactly what he said first?" Steve asked, gesturing with his free hand towards the still-muted TV. "It might not be as bad as you think?"

Tony snorted, then sent a wash of apology through their bond. "I'm sure it will be exactly as bad as I think, but you're right. I should figure out how far I need to go." He grabbed the remote from where it had fallen onto the loveseat. "Everyone pull up a seat," he suggested.

Steve slid into his usual place on the loveseat, then gently tugged Tony over the arm and down into his lap, wrapping his arms around his mate. If this was going to be as bad as Tony feared, they could both probably use the extra comfort. Jae, Marius, and Emily took the couch closest to them, and Emily reached out and squeezed Tony's ankle as she sat. Laurie sat in one of the armchairs, her Starkpad on her lap, ready to go.

When they were all ready, Tony unmuted the TV, then did the thing with the remote that let them go back to the beginning of the interview and started it just as the reporter took their seat.

"—joined today by Tony DiNozzo Senior, father of Guide DiNozzo, who has been making so many headlines these last few weeks. Mister DiNozzo—"

"Call me Tony; I'm the original Tony DiNozzo, after all," he interrupted her. Steve's Tony scoffed, and so did Marius.

"Seriously man?" Marius asked as Tony paused the interview and glanced over at him.

"Yeah, he's been introducing himself that way my entire life," Tony said bitterly. "He refuses to call me anything but Junior, like the whole world might forget that it's his name if I use it. Narcissistic ass," he mumbled the last line. Steve just gave him a comforting squeeze as Tony unpaused the interview.

"Alright, Tony," the Interviewer said. "I imagine it must have come as a bit of a shock, seeing your son's face on the TV a few weeks ago, when the news of his bonding broke. Have you been helping him deal with the fallout?"

"You know, it was a surprise, but not for the reason you're thinking. You see Sorrell, that was the first time I'd heard about Junior finding his Sentinel, and I've gotta say, I'm disappointed."

"Wait, are you telling me that you didn't know your son was bonded to Steve Rogers before that press conference? They didn't give you any warning?" Steve couldn't sense anything through the TV, but he thought the interviewer's confusion was genuine.

"I didn't even know Junior was a guide!" Tony's dad said. Even Steve could hear the slight derision in his tone on the word 'guide.'

"He doesn't like guides?" Steve asked quietly.

Tony paused the interview before replying quickly. "Nope. 'DiNozzo's aren't emotional sissies, Junior,'" Tony snarled in a clear imitation of his father. "I remember, I was seven when they came out with that breakthrough drug that let them suppress guide abilities when they were in distress. He read it in the paper at breakfast and said 'Now if only they found a way to suppress them before they even came online! I'd buy shares in that!'"

"Oh my god," Jae murmured. "I didn't realize it was that bad, mate."

Steve didn't know how to reply — how were you supposed to react to the knowledge that your mate's own father wanted to suppress his abilities before they even manifested? "Did he say that kind of thing often?"

Tony nodded sharply.

"I'm so sorry." Steve placed a gentle kiss on the back of Tony's neck. It wasn't enough, but he couldn't go back in time and punch Senior, so it would have to do.

Tony restarted the interview. "According to the information released by SHIELD, Agent DiNozzo had been a guide for a full year before he bonded with Sentinel Rogers," the Interviewer said. "Are you telling me that in that time he never told you?"

"Not so much as a phone call," Senior said, clearly relishing the chance to tell his version of events.

"Wow. Do you have any idea why that would be?" the interviewer asked.

"All fathers and sons have their ups and downs," Senior said dramatically, "But I'd think something like that would at least earn me a phone call, you know? But Junior's never been the best at that kind of thing."

"Okay," the interviewer looked startled, as though she didn't know how to respond to that either. She glanced down at her notes, and then asked, "So what's your opinion on this debate? Should Director Fury have released Steve and Tony's names and images, or should he have left well enough alone?"

"I'm glad you asked that, Sorrell," Senior said smugly. "I've got to say, I'm very disappointed in Junior. I'm ashamed to have learned — from the news, no less — that my son is the kind of man to avoid his patriotic duty. This is what happens when young people make decisions on their own, you know, without consulting their elders, who are wiser and more worldly than them."

"So you think they shouldn't have hidden their identity?"

"Hell no!" Senior said, then covered his mouth and looked contrite. Even through the television, Steve could tell that he didn't mean it. "Pardon my French, Sorrell," he said. "But I stand by the sentiment. Rogers has a duty to America to protect it, just like he did in World War Two. And if Junior's convinced him otherwise, well, let's just say If I'd had five minutes alone with him I coulda changed his mind."

"Did that man just obliquely threaten you — a guide — on national TV?" Marius growled, as Steve's vision took on a red tinge.

Tony immediately paused the show. "Yep," he drawled.

"Unbelievable!" Laurie muttered, tapping frantically on her pad.

"God, I wish Blair hadn't let you talk us out of pressing charges last year," Emily growled. "Even if we couldn't have won the case, it would have stopped this… farce!"

Tony shrugged, though Steve could still feel his fiery cold anger just below the surface. "At the time, keeping my name and face out of the press was still a priority. Child abuse cases tend to be almost as hard on the victim as the abuse was, and in my case, even redacting my name wouldn't have helped, because it's the same damn one he has."

"Still, we should have done something Emily protested. Tony just shrugged again.

"Why couldn't you have won the case?" Steve asked curiously.

"Not enough evidence," Tony said flatly. "It's been too long, so it would mostly come down to my word versus his. He's always been able to charm people, and I didn't want to risk him charming a jury. Better to let sleeping dogs lie."

"Well if we ever meet him, I'll use the first excuse I find to rearrange his face for you," Steve swore.

"I'll be next in line," Marius growled.

Tony chuckled and then kissed Steve on the cheek. "I appreciate it, my knight in star spangled armor." Steve rolled his eyes, but felt a hint of amusement curling around Tony's anger, so counted it as a win. Then Tony sighed and resumed the interview.

"So you think that the Avengers Initiative is a good thing?" the interviewer asked quickly. Steve couldn't tell if she had missed the subtext of Senior's threat, or was doing her best to ignore it.

"I do, Sorrell; I do," Senior declared. "We needed 'em back in World War Two, didn't we? Can you imagine how it woulda gone in Korea if we'd had a few more super soldiers like Captain America on our side? Or Vietnam? Fury definitely has the right idea. No idea what's coming next, but I'd feel better knowing that someone with his head on straight like Fury's at the reins."

"What about the suggestion that sentinels and guides should lead this charge, since it already falls under their mandate to protect the tribe?" she asked.

Senior snorted. "I don't know about everyone else, but I'm not comfortable putting my life in their hands. The way those guides can read minds? That's never sat right with me. Who knows what they get up to behind closed doors. I don't blame Fury a bit for keeping them at arm's reach, and the fact that they broke into his building like they owned the place just shows that he was right. They're probably the reason Junior hasn't reached out to me, either, you know."

"Is he serious?" Steve burst out, as Tony quickly paused the TV.

"If he is, he's not alone," Laurie said grimly. "There are a few places in the world that treat guides with suspicion because of exactly that misconception. Even in countries that are supposed to know better, you'll still find people — especially older people — who have these strange ideas about what guides are actually capable of."

"But even back in the twenties we knew better!" Steve protested.

"You lived in a pretty big and progressive city for your time," Emily said kindly. "And then you were entrenched in the military complex, which has always valued sentinels and guides. Out in the less well educated areas, even the US had problems. Especially in places where farming was a way of life; a farmer's livelihood depended on what he and his family could grow. If one of his children became a sentinel, that child was stronger and able to do more to help."

"Until said kid ran away from home to find his guide," Marius concluded. "At which point, guides were bewitching their children into leaving them. And it wasn't just the yokels. Part of the children's revolution in the big cities was about guide's rights. Sentinel children were willing to work in dangerous conditions with no thought for their own safety, and maybe general concern about the mundanes, but if a guide was in there doing the same thing, they'd go crazy trying to protect them. You probably didn't see much of it because you weren't online until after you joined the military."

"And I was never strong enough to work," Steve added. "I guess I just didn't realize…"

"Most people don't," Emily shrugged. "They gloss over it in the history books. But, bottom line, there are definitely people — even in America — who fear and dislike guides for a variety of reasons. They don't usually share their opinions quite as freely on national TV as Senior here, or with quite so much obvious dislike, but they do exist."

"And to them, Senior's the only one making sense while everyone else is dancing around the real issues," Tony said tiredly while Laurie nodded emphatically.

"That's so wrong," Steve grumbled.

"Well, as Stark would say, you can't cure stupid," Tony replied with false cheer. Steve laughed despite himself, then turned his focus back to the TV as Tony restarted it.

"Wow, alright, um, you're very passionate about this," the interviewer fumbled to reply.

"I am," Senior nodded decisively. "That's why I didn't get Junior tested when he was a kid. I wanted him to stay far away from all that nonsense. And now, here he is, neck deep in sentinel and guide things, and there he goes convincing a national icon to hide his face and retire? Well, that's proved me right, hasn't it?"

The interviewer's hand reached up as though she was going for her ear, then she aborted the movement. "Well, I'm afraid that's all we have time for at the moment. Thank you so much for speaking with us, Mister DiNozzo." As she reached out to shake his hand, Steve noted that she hadn't called him by his first name that time. Clearly someone in charge had just told her through an earwig to close out the interview quickly.

"My pleasure, Sorrell," Senior said with a smarmy grin. "My pleasure. I'm glad I could help give you a more complete picture of what Junior's been up to." He shook his head. "Straight from the horse's mouth of the original Tony DiNozzo, eh?"

Before he could say anything else, the program quickly cut to a commercial. Tony sighed gustily and fast forwarded. His earlier amusement was gone, fed into his cool rage. "I wish I could say that any of that surprised me," he murmured.

"Oh honey," Emily reached over and patted his foot where it stuck out over the armrest. "We'll take care of him this time. I don't think Tony Stark's gonna let you get away with letting this slide."

Steve's Tony sighed again. "I know. And I want to take him down; I do. I know I didn't— I didn't want any of this. I didn't want my face out there. But despite everything Stark's tried to do to fix it, well, my privacy's already gone. Everyone already knows my face, and now, thanks to that fucker, everyone knows about my screwed up childhood. So fuck it. I'm taking a page out of Stark's book. I'm calling a press conference."

"Done," Laurie said quickly. "Are you going to cuss this much during it?"

"Probably," Tony shrugged. "Why?"

"So I can warn them to use a few second delay for the sensor. We don't want you dropping F-bombs uncensored where children can hear them. You're supposed to be the responsible federal agent one."

"Right," Tony smirked. "I'll do my best to moderate it, then."

"So, when do you want to do this?" Laurie asked.

"As soon as we iron out the gist of my statement," Tony said. "I don't want his madness out there unchallenged for longer than we absolutely have to."

"Got it," she said with a sharp nod.

Tony's phone suddenly rang with Stark's tone again. "What's up?" Tony asked immediately.

"Well I figured out his angle," Stark replied.

"You're on speaker, for the other Guides," Tony said, pressing the button and pulling his phone back away from his ear.

"Great," Stark's voice rang out. "So, last week, Senior went out and filed a trademark claim for the names 'Tony DiNozzo' and 'Anthony DiNozzo,' as well as the version with your middle name and initial."

There was silence for a long moment, before Steve's Tony scoffed. "I mean, that's so incredibly petty, and also exactly the kind of thing he would do."

"He's hoping to convince you and Steve to go into the superheroing business so he can cash in on owning your name?" Laurie asked, scandalized.

"Yep!" Stark said, popping the p loudly. "He tried to do the same with Cap's name, incidentally, but couldn't prove ownership. He only got away with the DiNozzo thing because it's also legally his name."

"That's exactly how he stole my inheritance, so I'm really not surprised," Tony said tiredly.

Several voices echoed "What?" in tones of outrage.

"Yep," Tony rubbed his temples, and Steve immediately began massaging his neck. "The bank didn't bother to check the details, even though I had specific instructions that the money could only be taken out by Junior and not Senior."

"Okay, so we're charging him with bank fraud too," Laurie growled.

Tony sighed. "I didn't really have the time or money to get into it before, and I guess I still… I still thought he'd change… I was young and stupid back then. Funny how coming online and then bonding can really change your priorities."

"It isn't stupid to think he's gonna change, unless of course he's already dead," Stark said quietly.

That cheered Tony up slightly, and not for the first time Steve wondered about Howard. Tony had dropped enough hints that many people had a private face and a public face for him to stop bristling whenever Stark implied that Howard wasn't the man Steve remembered. Now, seeing how bizarre Senior could behave, while coming across as charming — because Tony was right, he was charming — Steve had to wonder about the face that Howard had reserved for his son.

Stark's greeting from their first meeting echoed in his mind. "So, you're the guy my dad wouldn't shut up about, huh?"

Laurie cleared her throat, and Steve tucked away that thought to come back to later. "So what are you going to do about this new information?" she asked. "Obviously, you aren't going to be convinced to become a superhero, but could he sue you for using your own name?"

Tony suddenly smirked, smugness radiating from him. "Oh, that won't be a problem for much longer. Steve, babe, I know it isn't exactly necessary for sentinels and guides, but how would you feel about going ahead with that thing we tossed around after watching My Fair lady?"

It only took Steve a moment to recall the conversation, and to figure out Tony's idea. It probably should have been something they gave more thought to, but he was right that, since they were already bonded, it was more of a formality. "We'll still do something with our friends and family later, though?"

"Of course," Tony agreed instantly, and a rush of love washed through their bond. Steve hated to think about how lonely Tony must have been in the past, that such little gestures meant so much to him.

"I'm in."

Tony's smirk grew as he turned back to his phone. "Stark, you've got people?"

"In just about every place you could want them," Stark agreed with his own smug tone.

"How fast can they rush a license and a name change?"

"About two hours," Stark said, then snapped his fingers. "Oh, that's devious. I knew there was a reason I liked you. I'll have someone at the Center with the paperwork within… oh, twenty minutes."

"Great," Tony turned to Laurie. "Then, to be on the safe side, let's call that press conference for three hours from now."

"I assume I'm getting an invitation when you do this for real?" Stark added.

"You're at the top of our list," Tony assured him.

"Good. Have fun speechifying," Stark said before hanging up.

"Care to share with the non-geniuses in the room?" Jae asked, even as his sentinel pulled out his phone and started texting. Steve assumed it was instructions to let the courier through security. Laurie was also typing away on her phone.

Tony's evil grin widened, smugness twining with the white-hot anger still curling around his end of their bond. "I'm going to cut Senior's legs right out from underneath him. And then I'm going to show the world exactly who he is."

Chapter Text

Tony mentally sorted through his personalities, trying to pick the one he wanted to project to the world. This wasn't the time for the class clown who eased tension around the office, nor the annoying idiot who exasperated people into confessing. He didn't need to flirt information out of anyone, or scare the crap out of them with DeMarco.

No, he needed to be polite, firm, and charming. His courtroom mask was probably the best fit. Confident, knowledgeable, with an easy-going charm. Alright, maybe just a hint of DeMarco. Honestly, Tony's empathic projection of a rage flame thrower was still going strong, since Emily had helped him pack everything away this morning, and with some of the things that Tony planned to say, he didn't think he could keep a perfect lid on it even if he wanted to.

So, courtroom persona it was, — the one he called Detective DiNozzo — with just a dash of DeMarco lurking around the edges.

Tony took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let himself step into Detective DiNozzo. He pulled the persona around his mind, sinking into its mannerisms and tone. Once it had fully settled, he opened his eyes and looked around for Gibbs and Abby.

Embracing his role as Detective DiNozzo, Tony caught Gibbs's eye and quirked an eyebrow. Gibbs smirked and nodded approvingly. It had taken Kate almost a year to see through all Tony's masks, but Gibbs had gotten it right away.

They were there to support him, — Gibbs had arrived ten minutes after Senior's interview had ended — though neither he nor Abby would be stepping in front of the cameras. Instead, they would be watching on TV from Tony and Steve's suite. Kate and the others had also texted Tony their support throughout the morning, but had had to hold down the fort at NCIS.

Steve would be coming along; he insisted on being by Tony's side the entire time. Jae, Marius, Emily, and Yulia would be showing a united front of the Center's leadership, since Senior had tossed some pretty serious accusations their way as well. Laurie would be there, running the show, the way Pepper usually did for Stark.

Tony double checked his pocket, and his note cards were still there. He wasn't going to pull a Stark and go off script; not only did Tony think he wouldn't do half as well, he was very pleased with the speech that he and Laurie had written.

Giving himself one last once-over in the mirror after Abby's last 'good luck' hug, Tony checked on his best Brioni grey suit, — not a wrinkle — olive Gucci shirt, — to bring out the green in his eyes — and Berluti belt and loafers — polished to a shine. He'd decided to forgo the tie and just leave his top button undone, to give a more casual air.

Finding nothing to fix — even the artful spikes in his hair looked perfect, — Tony took a deep breath and looked at Steve. He'd already given his sentinel a once over, and his matching outfit — though with a blue shirt — was still flawless. Steve reached out and grabbed Tony's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Ready to go?" he asked

Tony nodded. "Yeah, let's do this." Tony might regret his impulsiveness later, but right now he was feeling confident about his choices.

Outside of their suite, he found Emily and Jae waiting for him. "The sentinels are outside," Jae explained. "You ready?"

"I am," Tony nodded sharply.

Emily searched his face for a moment before nodding back. "Blair's gonna kill you for doing this while he's too far away to help."

Tony snorted. He'd already been told as much when he called and gave the North American Primes the heads up on his plan. "He'll get over it."

Emily smirked, then quickly kissed Tony's cheek. "Kick his ass, Tone."

They quickly made their way to the front doors of the Center and got into position. Since Senior had directly called out the DC Center, Tony and Laurie had decided to host their press conference in front of it, visibly showing his solidarity with the sentinel and guide community. Just as the alarm beeped on Tony's phone, the door was opened by Sentinel Davis.

"They're ready for you, Tony," he said quietly.

"Thanks Brian," Tony shook his hand before grabbing Steve's again. Brian was one of the many active duty sentinels and guides in the military who had reached out to Tony since Fury's first press conference. It seemed somewhat surreal to Tony that they had first met only a month ago, when Brian had let Tony use his phone to call Gibbs after his 'kidnapping.' His life had changed so dramatically in just a few short weeks.

Emily and Jae led the way outside, with Tony and Steve hand in hand behind them. The press immediately went wild, and Tony was momentarily overwhelmed with the mass of camera flashes and shouts. Smiling his genial, 'trust me', Detective DiNozzo smile, Tony focused on following Emily without tripping over his own feet.

When they reached the podium, Emily and Jae split up, moving to stand beside their respective sentinels, who were already flanking the space. Laurie was still at the mic, and as Tony and Steve came to a stop behind her, she said "Once again, please hold all questions until the end, thank you." Then she stepped to the side, and there was no one left between Tony and the sea of reporters.

Taking a deep breath, Tony stepped forward, Steve by his side as always, and pulled out his notecards. As he placed them on the podium, he joked, "Let's see if I can do a better job of sticking to my speech than my fellow Tony, hmm?"

The crowd laughed politely, just as they did when Stark told a joke, just like the jury always did when Tony made an amusing comment in court, and Tony felt his nerves fade a little more. He could do this.

"Some celebrities want to be famous," he began, reading from the first card. "As kids, they dream of seeing their name on TV, of hearing the flash of paparazzi cameras. I never had that dream as a kid; in fact, I did my best to blend into the woodwork. Unfortunately, thanks to Director Fury and his agents, I no longer have that choice."

"My name and face have been spread all over the world, against my direct wishes, and since my fellow Tony hasn't figured out time travel yet, I'm stuck with that." That got a bit of a chuckle from the press corps, and Tony felt the tension in his shoulders ease slightly. "Now, like my name and face, there are other things about my past that I would rather keep private, instead of sharing with the world. However, like Director Fury before him, my father has made that impossible."

"Other people might choose to let this go, but that's not the kind of person I am. I owe my life, and my continued livelihood, to the sentinel and guide community, and in particular to the DC Center and the Alpha Primes of North America. So for my father to go on television to talk about something he knows nothing about, and to viciously slander those people who have done so much for me? Well, as they say, I guess we're doing this."

"I'll start by addressing the specific allegations against the Center. First, that the DC Center was either negligent in not informing my father that I was a guide, or that they were deliberately preventing me from doing it myself."

"What the public may or may not know is that, when it comes to a sentinel or guide coming online, the Centers are bound by HIPAA, just like a hospital would be. Sentinels and guides have the option to register an emergency contact in their files who will be called in the event of an incident, such as coming online, but beyond that, the Center is required to respect our privacy."

"Now, let's say you surveyed a hundred unmarried thirty-somethings off the street, who didn't live in the same city as their parents, and asked them who their emergency contact was. I'd bet you that ninety percent of them listed a roommate, coworker, or close friend, if not a significant other. This is particularly true of law enforcement officers, because we often work in partnerships."

"Just about every LEO I know has their partner listed as one of their emergency contacts, because that's usually who is bringing them into the hospital, and checking them back out when they're free to go. If they're single, they'll often have a second coworker listed, in case they and their partner are injured together."

"In point of fact, my emergency contacts both at local hospitals and at the Center are exactly that: my partner and a close friend who works with us. Of course, now that I've found my sentinel, Steve is added to the list, but I've got to tell you that my work partner is still the first name listed."

"So, if you want to know why the Center didn't call my father? Why would they? He wasn't listed in my file. The Center respected both my medical privacy and my right to choose my own proxies, and notified my legal emergency contact as they were supposed to." Well, if one ignored the part where he'd been detained like a criminal and it was actually Tony who had called Gibbs. But that wasn't relevant. His file had listed Gibbs and Abby, and not Senior.

"Like most grown adults, that contact wasn't my father," he concluded. "My father also implied that the DC Center had kept him from seeing me. Since my father has never once called the DC Center, or myself, since I came online, let alone since Director Fury outed me, this is a blatant lie. In fact, my father hasn't even come to DC in the last three years, despite the fact that I have been living here for all of that time! So much for that image of a martyr beating down the big bad Center's door to reach his poor captive son, huh?"

"As for Senior's misguided — pun intended — belief that guides can read minds. Seriously? Are we back in the nineteen twenties? No, scratch that, because this morning, while watching that press conference, Steve, who lived through the nineteen twenties, had to pause the playback in confusion, because even back then they knew that guides weren't witches!"

That got another round of laughter from the press corps, especially when Steve leaned forward and said, "It's true," into the mics.

"I feel like the Council has made this clear over and over again in the literature, but apparently it bears repeating," Tony drew the focus back to himself. "Guides can sense empathic waves, aka emotions. Not thoughts. We can also do stuff involving the psionic plane, which is more commonly known as the spirit plane. Again, not mind reading."

"While we're on the subject, guides also can't manipulate your emotions. Here, let's have one of our lovely press corps volunteer…" a dozen hands shot up, and Tony pointed to the most recognizable face he saw, hoping that would discourage claims that she was a plant. "Yeah, in the green blazer. Miss…?"

"Nan Curry: NBZ," she said as she stepped forward cautiously.

"Fabulous." Once she was in view of the cameras, Tony continued, "Okay, this whole manipulating emotions thing: it's a misunderstanding. Some strong guides can project their emotions. Most guides unconsciously project things like fear, rage, or sorrow, during periods of great stress, with varying degrees of strength and range, and those are the kind of incidents you hear about on the news. But believe me, focusing a single, specifically chosen emotion at only a specified target? That's an order of magnitude harder. So, with your permission?"

Nan nodded. Tony closed his eyes and concentrated, pushing a small tendril of awe in her direction. He wasn't lying; it took a lot of focus to let just one emotion through his shields, instead of dropping them completely, and to direct it at a specific person instead of everyone around them. When he saw her face light up, Tony cut it off.

"Okay, did anyone else feel anything?" The press corps shouted back in the negative. "Ma'am, did you feel any words or thoughts, or just an emotion?"

"Just an emotion," She replied, her smile still in place.

"And did I override your own emotions, or simply share this one with you?"

"Oh, no, it wasn't forced on me," she said quickly.

"And what was the emotion I shared?"

"Awe… like seeing an amazing work of art," she replied after a beat.

Tony smirked, "You're not wrong. That was what I felt the first time I saw my spirit animal. Thank you for helping me demonstrate that." She nodded and slipped back into the crowd amid a bit of half-hearted applause. For a moment, Tony wondered if this was how stage magicians felt. Shoving that thought aside, he barrelled onwards. "As I said, projecting an emotion at a person — especially a Mundane who isn't naturally receptive to empathic energy — is hard. It's also not something we do very often."

"Imagine your friend — we've all got one and you know exactly who it is. The one who can't lie, or even deflect, because everything they feel shows up clear as day on their face. The one who should never be allowed to play poker. That guy."

"Guides don't want to be that guy. We work hard on our psionic shielding to keep from feeling your emotions, sure, but also to keep from being that guy showing our own emotions." More chuckles, and Tony knew he had the press right where he wanted them, eating out of the palm of his hand, to use a horrible movie cliche.

"So, when it comes to my father's statements that the DC Center — or nebulous unknown sentinels and guides — were somehow keeping me from reaching out to him. Or that they were doing something nefarious to Director Fury. Or that they're secretly ruling the world, all through their spooky mind powers…" he sarcastically wiggled his fingers to indicate magic. "All of it is ridiculous nonsense."

Tony had wanted to point out that if guides really had mind powers, and were inclined to use them unethically, he could have kept Fury from outing him, or ruled the world, or something. But Laurie had rightly pointed out that they didn't want to give the conspiracy theorists any ideas.

"As for his illogical statement that he doesn't want the safety of the world to rest in the hands of sentinels and guides, and yet he wants the safety of the world to rest in the hands of Steve and myself?" Tony pulled an exaggerated confused face and waved his hand between them, just as he had done with Gibbs a few weeks ago while mocking Fury. "Last I checked, we were a sentinel and a guide, right babe?"

"Yep!" Steve replied cheerfully.

"That's what I thought," Tony nodded as the reporters laughed exactly when he wanted them to. "So what's the difference, hero-wise, between Steve and another sentinel, like, say, DC's Beta sentinel, Yulia Ivanova-King?" Tony asked, gesturing at her.

"Other than the fact that she can wipe the floor with me when we fence," Steve added, right on cue. Yulia and Emily, who had been forewarned, both smirked as the press corps began murmuring.

"And what's the difference between myself and DC's Alpha guide, Jae Greene, other than the fact that he's way more diplomatic than me?" Tony asked, gesturing at Jae, who grinned broadly. He really regretted that Laurie had cut their handcuff line for the more boring one about diplomacy, but she was right that he didn't want to conflate law enforcement and kink, and neither he nor Jae could complete the line without a knowing smirk.

"To say that you want to trust the safety of the world to a specific sentinel and guide, without knowing anything about them, but to distrust the proven leaders among the sentinel and guide community? It's a logical fallacy," Tony concluded. "It's the same logical fallacy as people encouraging Steve and I to run for President, without even knowing which party we support. Or more importantly, our zodiac signs." That got the expected laugh, and neatly bypassed having to actually answer the former.

"Another logical fallacy from Senior's little interview is the fact that he accused me of being a puppet of the DC Center, but also accused me of being the ringleader in convincing Steve to drop the Captain America moniker. So which is it? Am I a puppet, or a puppetmaster? Or, you know, did two grown adults forming a relationship have a mature discussion about their mutual life goals and make plans accordingly?" He finished sarcastically. "I know, I know: reality can be so disappointingly boring, can't it?"

Once the laughs died down, Tony continued, "The last bit of slander against the Center affected not just DC, but the New York Center and the North American Primes, Sandburg and Ellison. When my father claimed that we "broke into [SHIELD]'s building like [we] owned the place." Now, my father isn't a law enforcement officer, but I am. And you know what law enforcement officers do when they find out that someone is committing a crime inside their building?"

"Bust in!" Someone shouted.

"That's right!" Tony smirked. "We break down doors like we own the place. And before anyone mentions a warrant, I'm giving you all a little homework. Google 'exigent circumstances', and then Google the eighteenth section of the Sentinel and Guide Act. Then you'll understand why, though Fury has expressed his disappointment with our actions, he hasn't actually accused us of breaking the law that night, because we didn't. Something my father should have Googled himself before running his mouth off on national TV."

Steve gently squeezed Tony's hand, and he suppressed his embarrassment by looking down at his cards. He could definitely see why Stark always went off script, but Tony was starting to get angry again, and that last line had slipped out before he could stop himself.

"That takes care of the slander against the DC Center specifically, and other sentinels and guides who have done nothing wrong, but who have helped and supported myself and my sentinel every step of the way," Tony read, getting back on track.

"And before another statement is made out of ignorance, I have now officially asked the DC center to bar Senior from access to me or my files. As he is a Mundane, they are allowed to do so. If he attempts in the future to enter the DC Center, he will be politely evicted, not because the Center are evil brainwashing, mind-controlling witches, but because I, a registered guide and Center employee, have asked it." Technically, he was more of a consultant than an employee, but Jae, Marius, and Laurie had agreed to use the less ambiguous term.

"Now, quite a bit was said about me, personally, and this is where we're really going to get into things I would rather be kept behind closed doors. But again, that choice was taken from me by another's selfish actions. Because this morning, without having even attempted to contact me, my father sat on ZNN and made my life even more of a public spectacle, just so that he could get his own fifteen minutes of fame."

Whispers broke out amongst the crowd, and Tony let a little more DeMarco bleed into his expression. "I say that, without fear of slander, because I have proof. Or rather, my favorite other Tony has proof, which he has scheduled to be released at the conclusion of this press conference."

"My father asked why he wasn't told that I was a guide, though the derision with which he said the word should have clued in the more astute viewers. He also saw fit to obliquely inform the world that he opted me out of the mandatory sentinel and guide testing that I should have undergone at the ages of six and twelve." That got gasps, which Tony knew were about to get a lot louder.

"Fun fact: as a law enforcement officer, I can tell you that in New York, where I grew up, the punishment for skipping out on those tests is a fine, unless said child turns out to be a sentinel or guide, and suffers distress due to lack of proper, informed, care: in which case, they are punishable by up to five years in jail per offense. More, if bribery was involved in the process.That's because it's rightly classified as child abuse for an unidentifed latent child to come online unawares. Also, there's no statute of limitations on that crime in New York."

"When he consulted on my care, North American Alpha Prime and Shaman Blair Sandburg performed an analysis on me that he was willing to take to court over this. I asked him to desist because, at the time, I wanted to keep my private life private, and a court case would bring with it publicity."

"But now, like I said, between Fury and Senior, I've got no privacy left, so we're doing this. Which means not just Senior, but now everyone will find out that Shaman Sandburg identified three different times between the ages of six and twelve when I should have come online. And guess what, Senior. I was in distress." Yep, that did it. Tony didn't even think he'd be heard over the reporters if he spoke again right now.

After a moment, Marius let out a piercing, two-fingered whistle, and the furor died down. "Senior wanted to know why he didn't know that I came online as a guide? Or why he wasn't invited to meet my sentinel? Funny story: people who abandon a twelve year old across the country and then disown that child for 'causing trouble' when the police question them about it? They tend to get left out of future family Hallmark moments like meeting the sentinel."

And there went the crowd again. Steve let go of Tony's hand and wrapped his arm around his waist, pulling him tight. Tony accepted the comfort, and did his best to send soothing calm through their bond, despite his own fury. He knew that referencing his childhood abuse was going to be hard on any sentinel, with their 'protect the guide' imperative, especially since they were basically hardwired to protect latent children. But it was probably a million times worse when it was your own guide.

The various reporters had started shouting questions, and Tony just looked at Laurie, who was standing there with her arms crossed, tapping her toe. Eventually it became quiet enough for her to say sternly, "I warned you to hold all questions until the end. Also, Tony has already said that he has evidence that will be unveiled at the conclusion of this conference."

When that silenced the remaining murmurs, she nodded at Tony, who flipped to his next card.

"Next I want to address a few specific lines from Senior's interview. The first is when he said "If I'd had five minutes alone with him I coulda changed his mind." If anyone listening to his interview thought that line sounded vaguely threatening, that's because it was. There's a mysteriously sealed CPS file floating around somewhere in Long Island where a teacher reported the black eye I gained upon emerging from 'five minutes alone' with my father during a parent-teacher conference."

The murmurs started again, but then quickly died out, so Tony continued. "As a law enforcement officer, I beg everyone watching to be very wary of innocent sounding euphemisms like that. The next time you hear it, I want you to ask yourself, what could that person possibly do in that short a time, alone that they couldn't do in public? Cause it sure as hell isn't a verbal debate." This time there was barely a murmur before silent anticipation settled back over the group.

"The next thing I want to address is that, in his interview, Senior made a point of stating that when I came online, he got "not so much as a phone call." I'm here to tell you why. There have been two times in my life when I was injured so badly that I spent almost a month in the hospital. On both of those occasions, my father was called, and he told the caller not to bother him unless I was dying."

That got an outraged gasp from the crowd. "I can tell you, it took a lot of persuading on my part to keep my college football coach from getting on a plane to New York to rearrange my dad's face. Now I almost wish I had let him, but back then I couldn't stand the thought of Coach C going to prison on my behalf." Tony very carefully didn't say 'because of me', because Laurie had spent ten minutes drilling it into his head that there was an important difference.

"Then, a little over a year ago, a criminal sent a biological weapon to the NCIS office, and I got a face full of genetically engineered, antibiotic resistant, pneumonic plague. For those playing along at home, that's the black lung, and back before antibiotics were a thing, it had a fifteen percent survival rate."

Tony missed the expected furor as Steve squeezed him tightly, burying his face in the crook of Tony's neck. Ignoring the cameras, Tony shifted to wrap his own arm around Steve, bringing his hand up to block Steve's face from the cameras. All the while, he pushed love, safety, and reassurance at him through their bond. It took a good minute before Steve was able to relax, and Tony turned back to the cameras.

"As you can imagine, sentinels don't like to hear their guides talk about almost dying. The reason Steve agreed to be put through that is because we both thought it was important that people knew the truth. And the truth is that I was dying. So, as per his directive, Senior was again called. This time he didn't even bother to answer, or return the message. If he had, he might have found out that that incident is what finally brought me online. Senior not knowing I was a guide is entirely on him."

"Of course, if he had answered the phone, or bothered to come to DC back then, he would have been subjected to Shaman Sandburg's fury over how many times previously I should have come online. As per his official assessment, each time that I didn't was because of prolonged mental and emotional stress regarding the stigma of being a guide. Stress that I personally struggle to identify as abuse, even though as a trained lawman I know that is the accurate term."

Before the reporters could start to clamor, Tony bulldozed over them. "And yes, as Twitter has guessed from my handle, I am also a Shaman, and have been since that incident. I'll spare my sentinel the stress and not spell out for you how that happened; I'm fairly confident that you can do the math."

Tony took a deep breath, but the worst part was over. Strictly speaking, he probably could have brought Senior down without going into this much detail, but something that Blair had mentioned when they called him earlier had struck a chord, and Tony wouldn't back down now until he'd finished.

"On a less viscerally painful note, I want to bring up something else that Senior repeatedly implied and stated during his interview. Specifically, that I was "avoiding my patriotic duty" by refusing to be a superhero. Or that my choice to avoid the limelight to protect my job was somehow the same as a decision not to protect this country or the tribe."

"To that, I ask, where was this fervor to protect people when Senior lambasted the officers standing between us when I was twelve, calling them "pigs" who "only worked as public servants because they couldn't succeed in business"?" Tony heard a literal hiss from one of the reporters and plunged on. "That's written in black and white on a Hawaiian police report, FYI, before someone tries to accuse me of slander."

"Where was this fervor to protect people when Senior told me that I was throwing my life away by joining the police academy, and warned me not to come crawling back to him when I inevitably ended up starving on the streets? That's from a letter he sent to me when I was twenty years old, confined to a hospital bed, with a leg broken in three places."

"Where was this fervor to protect people when I told Senior that I was joining NCIS and he chided me that federal agents were "losers", and asked how I expected to make any money "at an agency that no one had ever heard of". That one was a voicemail I deleted; which I don't regret. But you could probably track down the secretary who placed the call and witnessed it, if you needed corroborating proof."

"Suffice to say, in my experience, Senior never before cared about my desire to protect the tribe. He also clearly doesn't respect or care about the law enforcement officers, sentinels, and guides who are already protecting the tribe, and he certainly doesn't care about the tribe itself. All he cares about is money."

Tony let a little more of DeMarco slip out, and he knew his grin had to look a little evil. "When it comes down to it, for Senior everything — even his interview this morning — is all about money."

"One of the pieces of evidence that Tony Stark is preparing to release is a contract which Senior himself broke by his actions this morning. One where Senior agreed to maintain his silence regarding our family and my outing as Steve's guide, in return for 10 million dollars. Stark is also releasing the first version of the contract, where my privacy was valued at five million dollars, before Senior negotiated up," he concluded scornfully. "He's suing for breach of contract, incidentally."

"Now, before you think that Senior had a change of heart, and broke his silence this morning because he realized it was wrong to put money above his child, or whatever sappy, sentimental excuse you want to use… Tony Stark found out that Senior's been a busy boy these past few weeks."

"Because, before he decided to give up Stark's money, before he decided to do a complete 180 on his opinion of law enforcement, before he decided that he wanted to recant that disowning thing from when I was twelve and proudly advertise that I was his son once again… before all that, he made a few trips to the patent office."

While the press mulled that over, Tony slipped his hand into his pocket and got ready to drop his bombshell.

"The reason Senior wants Steve and I to become superheroes like Iron Man is because he has bought the rights to every variant of his and my name. Something he managed only because, as he's so fond of saying, he's the original Tony DiNozzo. He tried to do the same to Steve's name and failed. Senior went on television this morning to shame and guilt me into becoming Fury's star-spangled puppet, just so that he could rake in the profits off of my name. He thought he could get away with that because it has worked for him in the past, when he used our shared name to drain my bank accounts."

"Well, the joke's on him, because I think one Tony DiNozzo in this world is more than enough." Tony held his left hand up beside his face, showing off the gold-titanium alloy wedding band that Stark had dropped off just before the press conference. "As of about an hour ago, my name is officially, and legally, Tony Domenico Rogers."

The press went wild as Steve brought up his own ringed left hand to cup Tony's face and kissed him passionately.

The others let them get away with it for about a minute before Marius let off another one of his ear-piercing whistles. Steve nipped Tony's lip gently before backing off and letting Tony face the microphones again.

Tony cleared his throat and then pulled up his last card. This was the big one, the reason he had decided to reveal everything else. The jumbled thoughts that he had felt he needed to convey, nicely ordered and with the rough edges sanded off, courtesy of Laurie.

"Now, I could have done this quietly. I could have dropped a photo of our rings and my name change on twitter, and no one would know what Senior tried to do. But apparently, that isn't the family style. Senior chose to make our family drama public, so a public reply is what he gets."

"Still, I could have just shown off the paperwork that Stark dug up about the trademarks and left it at that. As I've said, I deeply value my privacy. So why have I told you so many personal things today? Because, just as my good friend Tony Stark realized at a different press conference a few short years ago, I have a responsibility to the public: to the tribe."

"And because of that responsibility, I'm standing here today, with the full support of my friends, my real family, my Center, and my Sentinel, to say something that needs to be said. Something that wouldn't mean as much if you didn't know my full background, or that I knew what I was talking about. And if that makes my life a headline for another month, or even a year, then so be it." Tony took a deep breath, looked directly at the cameras, blocked out the dread and anxiety and worry, and forged ahead.

"To every young latent or guide out there who's been told that being a guide makes you emotional, or weak, or less; to every young latent or sentinel who's been told you're too strong to suffer abuse; to every child who's been told that mom's drinking problems or dad's money problems or Uncle Vinny's anger problems are your fault because you weren't enough; to every young person who sees a very different side of someone than the adults around them do; to every teenager who's been told that if you don't choose the major your parents want, or get the grades they demand, that you're on your own; for every youth who's been kicked out of their house or sent away; for every athlete who's found themself alone in a hospital room, having to reevaluate their entire life; for every law enforcement officer who thought that this was the moment you were going to give your life for the tribe and felt afraid; for every person who's been told to put the wants of others above your own needs: you are not alone."

"You aren't weak. You aren't lying. You aren't attention-seeking. You aren't to blame. You aren't selfish. You aren't the problem. Your instincts aren't wrong. You're allowed to be scared and hurt and confused and unique and a mess and proud and defiant. You're allowed to find a new family in the people who love you, instead of the ones who hurt you. You're allowed to take care of yourself. You're allowed to stand up for yourself. And any of those jerks who try to tell you otherwise? Can go to hell."

The world was still for a long moment.

Then Steve squeezed Tony's hand, he drew in a shaky breath, and with that the rest of the world came rushing back. His ears were full of the noise of the reporters, and his bond was humming with pride and love. Tony was also being bombarded with pride, awe, and affection by his family, and he picked out Emily, Jae, and Abby's emotional fingerprints.

Suddenly Blair's righteous anger and pride joined the mix, and Tony wondered when the shaman had even arrived. The last he had heard Blair and Jim were in New Mexico or Oklahoma or something. Another emotional imprint: this one with a tangle of gratitude, satisfaction and pain? Stark, Tony placed it, quickly, surprised that the other man felt close enough to him for the familial bond. Glancing around, Tony saw that the others were still out of sight, but the two sentinels and Laurie were also looking at him with shades of pride, awe, and satisfaction.

Laurie stepped forward just as Tony's focus was pulled back to the cameras and reporters. "We'll take your questions now, but I'll remind you to keep them polite and orderly," she said in a smart, no-nonsense tone that said she expected obedience. Somehow, she managed it without coming across as gruff, the way Gibbs did, or bitchy, the way Kate did. Pepper could do the same thing, and Tony envied them. As Laurie called on the first reporter, he idly wondered if she and Pepper were some kind of magic. If Steve had survived the ice, anything was possible, right?

Chapter Text

"Sir, you wanted to be alerted if SHIELD encountered any Avenger-level incidents?"

Tony Stark looked up from the diagnostics that he and Bruce were checking. He'd found Bruce's location a few months ago during his hack of SHIELD's files, and had brought the other scientist to New York. Ostensibly Bruce was there to help with SI's clean energy initiative, but honestly Tony just wanted to keep him out of SHIELD's clutches. Now, Bruce glanced at him with trepidation at Jarvis's interruption. "I did, J. What's up?"

"It appears that a known Asgardian, Loki Odinson, has appeared in New Mexico through a wormhole. He is in possession of a scepter which produces energy similar to the tesseract. Eyewitness accounts from agents who survived the attack state that he has obtained the tesseract. Also, the scepter appears to have some form of mind control capabilities."

"Well, mind control, that definitely sounds like a job for the Guide half of the Council," Tony joked, swiping the Stark Towers schematics off his hologram display and pulling up SHIELD's newest reports.

"What would he want the tesseract for?" Bruce asked, abandoning his own worktop and leaning over Tony's shoulder to watch the videos.

"Well Dr. Selvig is convinced it's some kind of door to an interdimensional wormhole," Tony explained. "And if this Loki guy came through it, I'm guessing he's right. So… alien invasion?"

"That seems the most likely endgame, based on comments made at the scene," Jarvis agreed.

"Awesome. J, call Blair and Jim, and conference in George and Aria. Hell, add the Capsicle and Glinda."

"Right away, Sir," Jarvis said.

"Can you do anything to track this?" Tony asked Bruce as Jarvis began placing calls. "I mean, we know the tesseract puts off boatloads of gamma radiation. That scepter probably will too, if it acts the same. Well, maybe not gamma rays… what's the atomic signature of mind control?"

"I believe that's Guide-onium on the periodic table, Margaritaville" a new voice broke into their conversation.

"I have the others," Jarvis informed them unnecessarily as Bruce ducked back to his own terminal and began pulling up trace programs.

"Yeah, thanks for that, J," Tony snarked. He never should have told the other Tony that Starkanium tasted like coconut, because the pina colada jokes hadn't stopped since. Even Rhodey had started calling him Margaritaville when he called him Platypus! It was discrimination, that's what it was. "As for you, Rogers, keep your smartass comments to yourself."

"Which Rogers?" Tony and Steve chimed in together, then laughed.

"You two aren't as funny as you think you are," Tony chided them.

"I think the whole world is still scandalized by the fact that Captain America's a troll," George piped up. Tony quickly routed the call to his second holotable, so he could see the three video feeds.

"Not that we aren't thrilled to hear from you, Son," Steve said in his patented grandpa voice.

Tony rolled his eyes. "SHIELD was playing with things they shouldn't have had access to, and it looks like an extraterrestrial visitor strolled into town. Blair, you shared your report about that New Mexico thing with all the Centers, yeah?"

"I did. Is it Thor again?" Blair asked.

"His brother, yeah. Seems to have a glowstick of destiny that lets him hypnotize or mind control people." Tony threw the video up to their screens.

Immediately, Blair frowned. "I can't sense him through the screen, obviously, but just looking at him... that's nothing like the man who was in New Mexico. The bruising under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze darts around…"

"Fading finger-shaped bruises on his neck," chimed in Jim, with his eagle eyed Sentinel vision.

"Yeah, that's a guy who doesn't want to be here any more than Fury wants to see him," Tony Rogers added. "What're the odds that the glowstick is controlling him, and not the other way around?"

"I'd say pretty good," Tony offered. "Brucie and I are gonna work on tracking that tesseract's energy signature, and if the glowstick's on the same frequency we might be able to find it too. But in the meantime, is there some way you guys can… I dunno, track the crazy?"

"I've got a baseline Asgardian empathic imprint that I can share with the other shamans," Blair said slowly. "I'm not sure how much the… glowstick would change it, but it would give us a starting point."

"You said he was brainwashing other people too, SHIELD's agents, right?" Tony Rogers said, all traces of humor gone. "What does he want from them? Obviously to help him escape, but in the video it looks like he's picking and choosing who he blasts versus mind taps."

"According to their initial reports, SHIELD thinks he's trying to open a second portal with the tesseract, using a bigger energy source, so he can bring an army here," Bruce said. "Looking at Dr. Selvig's calculations, it's not impossible."

"Okay, so what does he need to do that?" Aria spoke up. "I'm assuming there's a reason he didn't just capture everyone at SHIELD's New Mexico base and use their existing set up."

Tony glanced at Bruce, who nodded. "A power source, super heating, they'd need to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect…"

"And are any of those things hard to find?" Aria asked.

"Right, if we narrow our focus to what he's missing, then we don't need to go looking for him, he'll be coming to us," Jim concluded.

Tony looked at Bruce. "Top of your head, best stabilizing element?" He had done quite a bit of research into that himself, when trying to stabilize his arc reactor, but Bruce was the expert.

"Uh, Iridium. Rhodium. Palladium?"

Tony shook his head. "SHIELD has all my notes about how fast the Palladium can be burnt through. Iridium, though, that's… that's something… resistant to all kinds of corrosion…" He quickly started a search for iridium in SHIELD's files. "The agent they took is pretty high level at SHIELD, he'd probably try to use their information before striking out on his own…"

"He'd still need a power source of incredibly high energy density," Bruce murmured. "Like—"

"Like that fancy tower of yours that Pepper's currently talking up on 60 Minutes?" Steve interjected.

Tony and Bruce looked at each other in shock. "The arc reactor," Bruce murmured.

"Hang on," Tony Rogers interrupted. "You said this agent that was compromised: he'd be working from SHIELD's playbook. And what has been SHIELD's play all along?"

"The Avengers?" Blair asked.

"Exactly! If that mind control scepter works the way it seems to — the way you're assuming it does — then the people under its influence still have their own memories, skills, etc. That's why he took the astrophysicist who was studying the cube; to use his knowledge."

"Right," Bruce agreed.

"So let's say he'd grabbed someone like Justin Hammer and said, 'I need you to screw someone over.' First thing Hammer picks is Stark Industries, cause Stark's always making him look like an idiot. If he took over my mind, I'd say Fury, cause he can't seem to keep himself from pissing me off. Loki took someone from SHIELD…"

"So they're going to be targeting us," Steve concluded.

"Both generally and specifically," Tony said, jumping back in. "Fury's pissed off at Capsicle, Glinda, and myself because we blew up his play right in his face. But he also hates and mistrusts the Sentinel and Guide Council in general, and he doesn't believe that the world-saving belongs in their hands!"

George nodded. "So if this agent's gonna go looking for supplies, he's gonna look at Stark Industries, or in a place that's right under Steve or Jim's noses. He's gonna want to do as much as he can to blame you or make you look foolish while carrying out whatever task Loki's given him."

"It fits the facts we've got," Tony agreed.

"So that means we need to start the search in New York and DC?" Blair asked.

"Sir, I've calculated the best source of iridium, based on SHIELD's database," Jarvis interrupted smoothly, pulling up the information on the feed that also projected to the others' phones. "I estimate there is a sixty-three percent chance he will attempt to take it from Tokyo, Japan; and a sixty-eight percent chance he will attempt a heist in Stuttgart, Germany. With the parameters of personal humiliation included, I estimate a ninety-four percent chance he will aim for a company called Iridium Communications, headquartered in McLean, Virginia."

"Literally in my and Steve's backyard," Tony Rogers nodded. "It makes sense."

"I'll call Marius as soon as we're done," Steve agreed.

"In the meantime, we'll talk to the Council, and alert the Centers around Stuttgart and Tokyo," Blair added. "There's a good chance that guides — especially shamans — will be immune or at least resistant to his mind control. If they're on the lookout for anyone with a heavily fractured psionic imprint, we'll have a good shot at finding these people."

"The act of traveling between planets seems to put off a really distinctive scent as well," Jim said. "And even without seeing them, something about the smell of all of the Asgardians just screamed 'other.' Not entirely unlike that new element in your reactor, Stark. We can't give local sentinels a scent profile to search for, but in this case 'you'll know it when you smell it' isn't exactly wrong."

"So, sentinel and guide boots on the ground in Germany, Japan, the greater DC area, and New York?" George summarized. "Federal alerts?"

Blair and Jim both nodded. "We'll send one through official channels, but if you can reach out to your people as well, we'll get the ball rolling from both sides."

"Will do," George and Tony Rogers both replied quickly. Though the latter wasn't at NCIS anymore, and ostensibly only worked with Veterans Affairs's Office of Investigations, he had his sticky fingers in more agencies and precincts in the DC area than even Jarvis did. Tony was never sure whether to be amused or jealous.

"We'll work on tracking the cube's energy signature, and beef up security at the tower," Tony promised.

"Should we reach out to the military, or do you want to do it?" Steve asked.

Tony considered that. Rhodey was supervising some… something, in Afghanistan, but with the War Machine armor he could be back in a few hours. "I'll call my Air Force honeybear, but I'll leave the Army and Navy boys to you two."

"Do we know anyone with the National Guard?" George joked.

"As if you even needed to ask," the other Tony said smugly. "I'll loop in the Coasties too, just in case."

"Why not call NASA while you're at it, Glinda?" Tony snarked at him. Really, he was totally not jealous of the other Tony's connections. Not even a little bit.

"Aw, love you too, Buttercup, but I'll leave playing with NASA for your Rhodey-bear."

Well, that was something, Tony consoled himself.

"What about the public?" Bruce piped up. "Do we tell them?"

George quickly cleared his throat. "I suggest we leave that to the Council and the federal agencies to decide, but I'm guessing the answer will be 'not until we have more details.' They won't want to cause unnecessary panic at any location we've guessed wrong, and if the sentinel and guide forces are able to round up most of the bad guys without attracting too much attention, then no one needs to know until the threat's already safely contained."

"That's fair," Tony agreed. Bruce nodded, but didn't look entirely convinced.

"Alright, unless there's anything else—" Jim began.

"Sir, Agent Romanov is attempting to override my controls" Jarvis interrupted.

"Someone just knocked on our door," Steve added a beat later.

"Alright everyone knows what to do. Go give Fury's people what for," Blair declared.

All three couples quickly hung up, and Bruce made himself scarce as Tony prepared for Natashalie's sales pitch. He honestly didn't know if she was here for himself or for Bruce, but either way she was going to be disappointed.

"Well, I'd say our first foray into intergalactic diplomacy went wonderfully," Stark declared. Tony Rogers was unsurprised he was the first one to have enough energy to banter. Since he wasn't a shaman he hadn't done as much heavy psionic lifting in this battle.

"Is that what we're calling it?" Steve asked. "Cause what you're calling diplomacy felt a lot like getting hit with lightning."

"Okay, so Point Break needs to work on his people skills, But I'd say the Sanderson Sisters over there were pretty successful, yeah," Stark replied.

"When I have enough energy I'll make you pay for that witchcraft comment," Tony promised. As soon as the room stopped spinning whenever he opened his eyes, that is. Not that it really bothered him: he and Stark traded insults on Twitter on a weekly basis; their entire relationship was pretty much built on movies, memes, and snark.

"What're you gonna do, hand me something?" Stark shot back.

"Don't tempt me." Despite his teasing, a small part of Tony was proud that, through a lot of work with Aria, Stark had gotten to the point of comfortably joking about his touch sensitivity. He'd never had a problem with Tony, because shamans didn't set him off, but the casual incidental touches most mundanes did without thinking about used to really stress his shielding.

"Children, don't make me sick Jim on you," Blair chimed in tiredly. Like the other four shamans, he was curled up with his sentinel on one of the makeshift couches — or, in Tony and Emily's case, the floor — around Stark's half-finished penthouse. All of them were physically and psionically exhausted, despite the strength their sentinels had each lent them to finish the job.

Everything had gone surprisingly to plan, after they and Stark had gotten rid of their SHIELD visitors. Tony had taken great delight in telling Coulson that he had no intention of leaving the world saving in the hands of SHIELD, but that, like all sentinels and guides, he and Steve were on their way to report to their local Center for instructions. Stark had apparently pulled something similar with Natashalie, but no one had the energy right now to watch the recordings.

The SHIELD agent, Barton, had indeed led Loki to Virginia, while another compromised SHIELD agent, Franklin, had escorted Dr. Selvig to New York. Both groups had been apprehended by local sentinels and guides.

By the time Blair and Jim had arrived, after making pit stops in Denver and Detroit to pick up the next closest shamans, all seven mind controlled people — including Loki — were in custody.

Of course, before they could begin treating them, Loki's brother, Thor, had appeared, and Jim, Yulia, and Steve had been forced to talk him down and get him to stop throwing around lightning bolts before they could get anything done.

During that chaos, Loki had made a run for it, and the bafflement that spread across his face when his scepter utterly failed to overcome Stark's combined guide shields and arc reactor was a thing of beauty.

Now, however, the six humans and one Frost Giant — what was his life now? — were all sleeping off the effects of a major psionic healing, and the five shamans were about a minute away from joining them.

"Aren't you glad you finally got to join in on the action around here?" Emily asked. Tony opened one eye just in time to see her reach out and nudge Booker's leg with her toe.

The Detroit pair were the oldest in the group, but that hadn't slowed Booker down at all as he calmly and methodically tore through the illusions in Loki's mindscape. Booked snorted. "Oh yeah, just the other day I was saying to Antwon, 'you know what we need in our lives? More alien catastrophes and super spies running around making a mess.' No thank you. You can keep them."

"Oh, I dunno, I think Loki's growing on me," Piper — the shaman from Denver — chimed in. "You gotta admit, he does some pretty hilarious impersonations with that shape shifting thing."

"That was certainly my favorite part," Stark agreed.

"You just like people who're as snarky as you," Tony pointed out.

"He's not wrong," Bruce said, and Tony would have been surprised if he had the energy for it. He had no idea when the other scientist had arrived. He cautiously opened an eye again; when the room didn't swim around him, he looked over and saw Bruce hovering in the doorway.

"How's it going, Brucie-bear?" the ever-irrepressible Stark asked. "Where's Point Break?"

"After Thor helped me calibrate the shielding, he went to check on his brother again," Bruce explained. Tony wasn't surprised; Thor had been extremely distraught when he realized his brother was a victim as well.

"The scepter and tesseract are both fully locked down behind the nuclear containment barriers and Asgardian shields," Bruce reported. "Once Thor is able to leave, they'll be ready for him, and they shouldn't affect you guys in the meantime."

"Awesome," Blair declared wearily. Just being in the same room as the scepter had been hard on the shamans, as it actively ripped at their shields.

"Yeah, if I never see that thing again, it'll be too soon," Piper added.

They lapsed into silence for a long moment. Finally, Stark broke it.

"So, food? I was thinking of going to this place around the corner I keep driving by — shawarma? You guys ever tried shawarma? I don't know what it is, but I want to try it."

"I don't think any of them could move even if you brought the shawarma to them," Bruce observed mildly.

"I'd disagree with you, if I had the energy to speak," Emily muttered.

"Sir, Miss Potts has finished preparing suites for our guests," Jarvis said.

"Thanks, J. And thank Pepper too." Stark huffed with false exasperation. Tony had all the sensory ability of a golden retriever at the moment, but he knew Stark's tone well enough to know that he was joking. "I guess sleep first, and then shawarma after," he conceded.

"That sounds like a plan," Booker agreed, though still no one moved.

"Well, I don't know how Pepper decorated, but I guess… first one of you to actually get to your feet and down to the guest floor gets dibs on the best suite?" Stark offered.

No one moved.

"I think you need to work on your incentives," Bruce chuckled.

"Hmm, maybe," Stark agreed. "I mean, I could offer a car to the first one to get off of my floor? Or maybe a suit? I've been working on this idea for an Iron legion, so I could always make them an extra one."

The others made various groans of ascent, but Tony managed a smirk. They didn't advertise it, preferring to paint Steve as essentially a baseline sentinel, but the serum had its perks beyond surviving cryogenesis, such as increased strength and stamina. It meant that Steve could shore up Tony through a major psionic working without draining his own reserves, unlike the others. "Well, that sounds like a challenge I've got to accept," Tony drawled. "Steve?"

Steve, ever the troll, made a show of rising to his feet without actually putting Tony down in the entire process. "Doctor Banner, if you could please show us the way?" Steve asked with utmost politeness once he was standing, Tony held bridal-style in his arms.

As a puzzled Bruce led them back towards the elevator, Tony looked over his shoulder and caught Stark's shocked expression. "Now none of that garish red on either my car or my suit, Margaritaville," he smirked, "I prefer something in an ocean blue range. I trust Jarvis to keep you from picking out something too ostentatious."

His timing was perfect, as the elevator doors closed before Stark had time to retort.

"You're going to pay for that comment later, you know," Bruce said quietly.

"Yeah, he'll probably dump the car in the ocean or something, just to screw with me," Tony agreed. "But it was worth it for the look on his face. Jarvis, any chance you could send me a copy of that moment?" Tony had a policy to treat every AI he met with the utmost respect. If they went Skynet on everyone, he wanted to be on their 'this one amuses me and will not be sacrificed' list. He'd only met two so far in his life — both belonging to Stark — but that didn't make his policy any less relevant.

After a quick pause, Jarvis replied, "I do believe the heavy psionic activity in the tower today has damaged some of my circuits, allowing a clip from the penthouse surveillance tapes to be accidentally forwarded to your email, Agent Rogers."

"Aw, thanks Jarvis. You're the best!" he cooed. As the elevator doors opened on the floor beneath the penthouse, Tony saw a note that had been taped to the wall, directing them which way to go.

"Even the AI's on your side," Bruce mused, wide-eyed. "How do you do it?"

As Steve carried Tony towards the promised bed, he replied over his sentinel's shoulder, "Oh, you heard Stark, Doc. I'm a shaman:" He did his best Sinatra croon, "it's wicked witchcraft!"

Steve, right on cue, walked through the open door to their suite and murmured heatedly, "And although I know it's strictly taboo, when you arouse the need in me…"

Tony laughed as Banner quickly made himself scarce, closing the door behind them. "And I've got no defense for it…" Tony added, stroking his hand through Steve's hair in the way that always made him shudder.

Maybe he had a little energy left after all.